


Stumbling Toward The Light

by Blue_Eyed_Raven



Series: Into Darkness 'verse [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: AU-supernatural, Alternate Universe - Supernatural Elements, Castiel/Dean Winchester Angst, Castiel/Dean Winchester Anniversary, Character Death, Dark Magic, Dean Has Nightmares, Domestic Castiel/Dean Winchester, Domestic Fluff, Don't let the last tag deter you from reading on ;), Enochian magic, M/M, Major character death-free form-I swear it's ok, Premonition, bottom!Castiel, slight bondage kink, top!dean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-02
Updated: 2015-07-18
Packaged: 2018-04-07 09:25:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 11
Words: 30,469
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4258095
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blue_Eyed_Raven/pseuds/Blue_Eyed_Raven
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>**SPOILERS FOR "Into Darkness" BELOW!!!!!!**</p><p> </p><p>*****************************</p><p> </p><p>It’s been a year since Castiel’s ‘miraculous’ resurrection, but Dean can’t seem to shake the feeling that something is wrong when his nightmares take on a new, more sinister edge.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is the sequel to “Into Darkness” that I wrote for the Reverse!Bang Challenge. I’m not sure if anyone was really interested in this, but alas, here it is.  
> I'd like to thank [freeagentgirl](http://archiveofourown.org/users/freeagentgirl) for being my Beta and kick ass synopsis-wizard! *HUGS*

_Never Close Our Eyes_ ~Adam Lambert~

I wish that this night would never be over  
There's plenty of time to sleep when we die  
So let's just stay awake until we grow older  
If I had my way we'd never close our eyes, our eyes, never!  
  
I don't wanna let a minute get away  
Cause we got no time to lose  
None of us are promised to see tomorrow  
And what we do is ours to choose  
  
Forget about the sunrise  
Fight the sleep in your eyes  
I don't wanna miss a second with you  
Let's stay this way forever  
It's only getting better if we want it to

 

 

**Chapter 1**

~ 1 year later ~

 

Dean lay awake in bed and listened to Castiel breathe deeply. He didn’t really snore, but Cas was much louder than if he were awake. Dean turned his head and pushed his cheek into the pillow to look at Cas. A slight smile curled his lips. Castiel’s hair was disheveled and a thick curl hung down on his forehead. His face was peaceful in sleep and the crow’s feet around his eyes seemed almost non-existent as he slumbered. _I love you so much_. Dean thought to himself and gently reached out to touch the back of his hand to rest against Cas’ bare torso. He didn’t move or make a sound when Dean touched him. Castiel was truly out like a light, which made Dean slightly envious. He hasn’t been able to get a full night of sleep in nearly two months now. At some point, every night, he woke up from either terrifying nightmares or unsettling dreams. Dean, at first, only chalked it up to post traumatic stress from losing Castiel. He had hoped that the move from Pontiac back to Kansas and to be close to Sam, Jess and baby John would have helped. However, as the nightmares persisted, and his gut told him otherwise, Dean knew deep down that it was more than that. He didn’t know what exactly, but he _knew_ there was more to it than _just_ nightmares. Many times his dreams consisted of Lucifer and Crowley, and it unnerved him greatly. But what upset him more was when he would dream of Castiel, the _angel_ Castiel, and how much of a dick he was and how everything that he and Cas had vanished when Castiel had his wings. Dean told himself Cas wouldn’t be like that; that when Castiel _did_ have his wings, even if it were briefly, Castiel never treated him less, or loved him less. Dean hated that his mind would make him see Cas that way. But he also couldn’t help but wonder if Castiel _had_ kept his wings, would that have been the way the future would have unfolded for them? Dean also couldn’t help but question if Castiel really _did_ miss heaven and his powers, even though Castiel told Dean that he didn’t. He couldn’t help wonder if Castiel didn’t resent Dean, even a little, and it was a paranoia that was like a poison that seemed to filter throughout his body further and deeper each day and he hated it. It left him with a bitter taste in his mouth and he just hoped that Castiel didn’t taste it when they kissed.

Dean had never brought up his concerns with Castiel. He didn’t want to drag him into his issues, even though he could hear Cas’ voice in his head: _Dean, we will handle this together. I’m here for you, you know that._ But really, what could Castiel do for Dean? It was only nightmares—right? Besides, not only did Dean not know how to talk to Castiel about the dreams, there was the small fact that ever since using magicks to unknowingly give Cas his wings back, he felt a strange sense of power course through his veins. It sounded silly, he knew this, but he couldn’t shake the ever growing sensation and it frightened him. Dean had tried a few times to broach the topic with Sam, being very vague about it, and asked round about questions like if Sam felt any different after he did the spell-work with him. But all that Dean could deduce from his shady inquiries was that Sam was just a tired new father.

With a short sigh, Dean pulled back the covers and climbed out of bed carefully so as to not disturb Castiel. Clad only in black boxer-briefs and a well-worn faded black t-shirt, he grabbed the grey housecoat that Castiel had given him at Christmas and headed downstairs. Rather than pour himself a glass of milk or even make a cup of caffeine free tea, as Castiel would surely urge him to do to try and soothe himself back to sleep, Dean went to their liquor cabinet and grabbed a bottle of bourbon. He took it to the kitchen and sat at the table after he grabbed a tumbler glass. He didn’t bother with ice and filled the bottom of the glass with an inch of the amber liquid. Dean played with the glass, swirled the liquid around and watched the alcohol stick to the sides of the glass then slowly recede. He sighed then gulped the liquid down in two draughts that burned his throat and warmed his belly instantly.

“Hey...” a sudden low and raspy voice said which startled Dean and caused him to jump in his chair. He turned to see a groggy-eyed Castiel as he stood in the doorway between the living room and the kitchen. Cas was dressed only in his black boxer shorts, the ones that had tiny bees all over it. They were his favourite pair to sleep in. His hair was an absolute mess and even in his sleep deprived state, he looked sexy as hell.

“Jeeze, Cas. You need a bell or something; you scared the crap outta me!”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to frighten you.” Cas rubbed his eyes and yawned. “Are you okay?” he added while he made his way over to Dean then proceeded to sit at the table with him.

“Yeah, I just... I couldn’t sleep is all. Thought this might help.”

“You really should try milk and graham wafers. It helps. I swear by it. Or that yoga tea I bought, it has no caffeine in it.”

Dean huffed a laugh and knew that Cas would suggest it. “Yeah, I thought about it, Cas, believe me, I did,” he replied with a quick wink. Castiel narrowed his eyes at him, but didn’t press it any further. The longer the silence between them grew, the more both men could feel the tension grow. It was finally Castiel who broke the silence.

“Why won’t you talk to me, Dean? I know something is bothering you.” Castiel locked his pleading sapphire eyes on Dean and they silently begged for Dean to talk to him. Dean pulled his gaze from his mate and paid attention to the task at hand and poured another drink.

“I have nothing to talk about, Cas... really. I’m fine. Just some stupid dreams. Go back to bed; you have to open up the coffee shop in only a few hours. I’ll be up after this drink, okay?”

Castiel scowled at him, but stayed silent. After a brief moment, he stood. “Fine,” Castiel answered stiffly. Even though he was clearly worried with a strong hint of pissed off, Castiel stepped toward Dean, leaned down and kissed him gingerly on his forehead then whispered, “I’ll be waiting for you. Don’t be long.”

“I won’t. Scout’s honour,” Dean said, a warm smile spread across his face and he gave Cas the Boy Scout’s hand gesture.

Castiel shook his head. “You were never a Boy Scout, Dean. I’ll just take _your_ word for it,” he quipped dryly. Dean laughed and nodded. Satisfied, Castiel turned and made his way back to their bedroom.

Alone once again, Dean went back to his drink, this time he sipped the bourbon and pondered his dream. This night it was different and Dean couldn’t put a finger on how he felt about it, whether he was confused by it or just plain terrified by it. It started off like most of the other dreams that consisted of Crowley and Castiel. Even though Dean never witnessed Crowley torture Castiel, he all too clearly imagined what it must have been like in his nightmares. That was bad enough. But when the dream had morphed and changed into a new nightmare, Dean didn’t know how to process it and woke in a sweat and his pulse raced. Dean had dreamed himself bound, being tortured and eviscerated alive by Crowley who tried to get Dean to tell him how he managed to give Castiel his wings back.

Dean shuddered as he remembered the too real feeling dream. He didn’t understand why his mind went to such a place. But deep down, his _instincts_ —the magickal power that he could feel course through his veins now—quietly screamed at him to be _wary_. It’s not just a dream.

With this new consciousness, Dean is overwhelmed with the strong need to be with Castiel. He downed the last bit of bourbon and pushed the glass away from him and rose to his feet. The whole trek back upstairs to their bedroom Dean fought the urge to run and eventually leap onto their bed as the sensation of something über creepy followed him.

He slid calmly under the duvet and sighed in relief the moment he felt Castiel beside him. As Dean rolled onto his side, his back to Castiel, Cas instinctually turned toward Dean and became the big spoon. As he slung an arm over Dean’s hip, he smiled. But when he closed his eyes, his smile faded. Dean couldn’t help but fear what his mind may conjure.


	2. Chapter 2

It had been a bit of a crazy morning as Castiel slept through his alarm, and of course, Dean wasn’t any help because he was dead to the world. Castiel was glad to see Dean asleep, however he couldn’t help but also be irritated with him.

“Why the hell didn’t you hear the alarm?!” Castiel muttered as he dressed quickly and shot a few glares in Dean’s direction as he continued to sleep through Castiel’s somewhat quiet attempt at getting ready. Castiel did the least amount of getting ready that was acceptable: basically he got dressed, brushed his teeth, applied underarm deodorant and some cologne. He ran a hand through his hair a few times then headed out the door to the coffee shop. He’d eat once he got there, and there was no issue with not having enough coffee to keep him awake. He _was_ the owner after all, and it was those small perks that Castiel enjoyed when things like this happened. Castiel hated being ill prepared for the day, but with having his sleep interrupted, multiple nights in a row now, he was bound to pay the price for it.

He worried about Dean, and the fact that Dean wouldn’t talk—only made excuses or passed any worry off—it unsettled Castiel greatly. He was almost at the point of _begging_ Dean to tell him what bothered him. Things between them had been so good—a domestic bliss that Castiel didn’t realize he craved until they found each other. But over the last eight weeks, things between them had started to become strained. Castiel didn’t like it, at all.

Castiel pounded his fist into the dough that would eventually be cinnamon buns and grumbled to himself. Unknown to Castiel, Charlie walked into the kitchen and caught him at the peak of his irritation.

“What did that dough ever do to you?” quipped the redhead. Castiel stopped what he was doing and his body stiffened at being startled. Castiel had a moment: _So this is how Dean feels when I inadvertently sneak up on him_ , he thought to himself.

“Good morning, Charlie,” Castiel said and ignored her rhetorical question, but gave her a small smile.

“Rough night or something?” She pressed. Castiel narrowed his eyes at her, silently telling her to drop it. “Fine, fine. You’re the boss, Boss,” she said and playfully punched him in the shoulder and carried on to do the task she had entered the kitchen for. Castiel was glad that she picked up on his intent and let it go.

Charlie was not just staff to him. She had become a great friend in the short time that they had known each other. Charlie, who was originally hired to help with the cafe needs, quickly became the computer and marketing guru for Heavenly Coffee. The name was all Dean’s idea. Castiel only agreed to it because he liked how it made Dean chuckle every time he said it.

The chime from the front door being opened broke Castiel from his thoughts. He knew who it was even before the usual cat call, as the cafe wouldn’t open yet for another forty-five minutes. “Yo! Bro! Fear not, I’m here to dish out some just desserts!” Castiel shook his head. Every single day... except for Sunday’s because the cafe was closed, Gabriel entered with the same irritating mantra.

“Good morning, Gabriel,” Castiel said and sounded aloof when Gabriel entered the kitchen and addressed his presence.

“Jeeze... Who pissed in your Cornflakes?”

“No one, I haven’t even had breakfast yet.” Castiel answered flatly.

“Oh, I know! You didn’t get laid last night so you’re all blue-balled and grouchy. Am I right, or am I right?!”

“Gabe!” Castiel growled. Charlie snickered, but kept quiet.

“See? Nailed it,” Gabriel said and went straight to work and grabbed what he’d need to make the desserts. “You haven’t even put the cinnamon buns in the oven yet?! Hopefully Mrs. Newark won’t pop a gasket over having to wait. Even though she’s nearly eighty, she’s a firecracker that one!”

Castiel really did appreciate that Gabriel had become the resident baker and pastry chef for Heavenly Coffee, since his sweet tooth made him a bit of an expert on the situation and revealed his hidden talent, but sometimes Castiel found it hard to handle his brother’s over the top demeanor.

To Dean and Castiel’s surprise, Gabriel showed up at their new place in Lawrence, not even two months after they moved into their new home. Both men were too shocked at his sudden appearance to deny him a place to crash. They were soon to discover that Gabriel had packed all of his belongings and the small u-haul trailer that sat in their driveway showed that he was serious about his move. After only two days, Dean had taken it upon himself to become his personal realtor and found him a place to move into, ASAP.

When Gabriel had shown up suddenly, Castiel could sense the awkwardness that exuded from his brother whenever they were left alone together. On several occasions Castiel attempted to talk to Gabriel to find out what had made him come to Lawrence, but to no avail. Gabriel evaded his enquiries. After a while, Castiel gave up and didn’t ask anymore, and things between them relaxed. Even though Gabriel could be taxing, Castiel had really come to enjoy the new camaraderie that they had developed.

“Cas... _Castiel_!” Charlie repeated and woke him from his thoughts.

“Hmm... What?” Castiel turned to look at the red-head as she stood beside him.

“I can take over. Why don’t you go and... well, I dunno... just do something else. If not, those buns are gonna be tough and not the fluffy goodness that the people of Lawrence expect from us. ‘Kay?” She locked her pleading hazel-green eyes on his.

“Fine,” Castiel said flatly and gave in to her. She was right. He couldn’t deny her that. Castiel walked to the sink and washed his hands after she playfully shoved him out of the way. He looked at his wrist-watch and noted that Dean would be awake now and would leave soon to head to work at his garage, Winchester Auto body & Repair. Castiel contemplated calling him, but before he could even make a decision, his phone in his back jeans pocket started to ring. His brow furrowed as he looked down at his phone. It was Dean.

“Hello Dean.”

“Hey Babe, I missed you this morning. Didn’t even hear you leave.”

“Well, I had a bit of a rough start to the day. Sorry I didn’t say goodbye. Besides, you were finally sleeping soundly. I didn’t want to disturb you.” Castiel answered carefully, yet purposefully added about Dean’s current sleep situation. If Castiel didn’t know better, he could have sensed Dean’s eye roll.

“It’s fine, Cas. Stop worrying.” Dean’s voice was stern, more so than he had intended, but he really didn’t want Castiel to worry. “That’s not really why I’m calling though,” Dean quickly added. “I know you didn’t forget, per-se, and I know it’s sorta sappy and stupid, but, I uhm... I’ve invited the gang over to celebrate our year anniversary,” Dean blurted out, embarrassed by his sentiments. Castiel beamed and a huge smile crossed his face.

“You’re right, Dean, I didn’t forget our anniversary. I was, and still am, going to show you how much I still adore you,” Castiel said in a deadpan manner, yet filled with a flirtatious flair—the way Cas can only manage to pull off. “But a nice get-together with our family and friends sounds wonderful too, Dean. I look forward to it. What do you need me to do to prepare for tonight, and what time did you tell the others to arrive?”

“You bet your ass there’ll be some private celebrating going on!” Dean quipped playfully and both men huff a quick laugh. “You don’t have to do a thing. I have it all planned. Just be ready for the gang to start arriving for eight... Oh! And stay away from the kitchen! I’m making dinner tonight!”

“I won’t argue with that.”

“Great! ‘Kay, I have to head to the shop. See you later, babe.”

“Goodbye, Dean.”

With that, Castiel ended the call and slid his phone into his back pocket again.

“Well, talk about mood swings! First you’re all pissy and now you’re all giddy. I’m guessing Dean was able to turn that frown of yours upside down?” Gabriel said while sliding in a tray of muffins into the nearby wall oven. Castiel’s smile faded a bit as he playfully scowled at his brother.

“Yes, and you’ve returned my frown. You happy now?”

“He told you, didn’t he?” Gabriel asked and ignored Castiel’s attempt at banter. When Castiel didn’t know how to respond and opted to stay silent, an exasperated sigh pushed past Gabriel’s lips. “That boy can’t even keep a fun secret from you. You sure have him whipped!” Gabriel gave him a wink.

Castiel’s heart sank a bit at his comment. That wasn’t really true. Dean _was_ hiding something from him and wouldn’t tell Castiel what was bothering him. Sure, Dean was able to give Castiel the common courtesy as to not have him do something embarrassing, like walk around the house in the nude and then have a handful of friends barge in, or something like that. But when it came to Dean feeling the need to protect Castiel from something he thought Cas didn’t need to be burdened with, Dean was full on stubborn and would keep it all in.

Before Castiel could give some kind of response, the tiny bell that was triggered by the door opening tinkled as their first customer of the day walked in. _Good thing Charlie’s on the ball this morning_ , Castiel thought to himself. Both Gabriel and Castiel paused and listened to Charlie as she proceeded to tell Mrs. Newark that the cinnamon buns hadn’t come out of the oven yet. And just like Gabriel predicted, the senior went off on Charlie. But she handled it like a charm and appeased the old lady with a free cup of coffee and sold her on the fact that she would get a hot bun which would make it even more gooey and delicious. Castiel on most days reminded himself how grateful for Charlie he was since his social skills were still a bit rusty after all those years of being a hermit writer.

He felt blessed with his new life here in Lawrence and how he was surrounded by so many people who loved and accepted him. Now, if he could only get Dean to talk so that they could fix this unknown issue that lingered between them.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, here's my attempt at writing fluff. You'd think it'd be easy, but I usually tend to write angsty stuff. But with fluff, it's a great gateway to smut! Ha! ;) Hope you enjoy.

The day flew by and before Castiel knew, it was time to close the cafe and head home. It had been a big baking day and he helped Gabriel make extra cookies, pies, squares, you name it, and the kitchen had been hotter than normal. Between feeling sweaty and tired, he had a moment where he wanted to be alone with just Dean tonight. But he knew that wouldn’t be the case, so he did his best to shake it off.

The moment Castiel closed the front door of their house, Dean immediately yelled from the kitchen. “Stay outta here! I mean it!”

Castiel laughed. “I promise! I’m going to go and shower.” He could suddenly hear the heavy footfall of Dean as he charged toward the living room.

“Use the main bathroom, don’t use ours! I don’t want you to go into the bedroom yet, ‘kay?” Dean said as he held onto the wall when he peered around the corner and gave Castiel a wink.

Castiel couldn’t help but sigh. “All my stuff’s in our bathroom though, Dean. Is this really necessary?”

“Yes... yes it is! Besides, I knew you’d be a stickler on not having your stuff, so I moved it for you. Now, do as I say!” Dean demanded.

“Fine,” Castiel said, a side grin planted on his face. “Smells good, whatever it is you have going on in there.”

“Oh, just you wait! Better than sex!” Surprised by his comment, Castiel’s laughter filled the room. “Well, hang on there... _other_ people’s sex lives. Not ours. We’re awesome.” Dean gave him a suggestive wink. Both men laughed. However, Castiel couldn’t disagree.

“I’ll be down shortly, Dean.”

As he made his way to the upstairs main bathroom, Castiel noted that Dean had even closed the door to their bedroom. Part of him wanted to peek inside. _What the hell could Dean be hiding in there?_ He thought to himself. When he turned the bathroom light on, he noticed that Dean had even picked out and folded clothes for him to prevent Castiel from entering their bedroom. He also noticed that Dean purposefully didn’t leave him any underwear. A sly grin crossed his lips. _All night I’m going to have to be reminded of Dean, with family and friends here... evil bastard._ He couldn’t help but secretly love it. Every time he’d move, the cotton of the jeans would rub him just so and he’d have to try and stop himself from becoming aroused when he thought of Dean and how he knew Castiel was not wearing any underwear—A new kink that stimulated him more than he ever would have thought.

Castiel turned on the hot water. While he waited for it to warm up, he stripped his clothes. He wasn’t surprised that when he pulled his boxer-briefs off that his dick was at half-mast from just the thought of Dean. It had been a year into their relationship and they still went at it like bunnies. The attraction they had to each other, rooted deep with their souls, was so profound that at times it was hard _not_ to show how much they loved the other.

The small room started to steam as the hot water poured from the spout. He adjusted the temperature then turned the spray of the shower on and climbed in behind the curtain. The moment the warm water hit his skin, a moan of delight escaped him. He was tired, and now aroused. Castiel tried not to think about Dean as he washed his hair and face. However, when he began to soap down his body, he found that he washed, rubbed and played with his cock more than he should. But with _much_ restraint he forced himself to stop. He wanted to save himself for Dean later, even if it meant that he tortured himself in the process.

After he hopped out of the shower and dried off, Castiel slipped into the incredibly soft jeans, which he didn’t notice until then, were Dean’s. He pulled an olive green t-shirt over his head and then put on the light blue button up shirt, opting to leave it open. With the clothes picked for him, he deduced that it wouldn’t be a formal party. Although, with Dean, he should have known better than to think that Dean would do formal.

After Castiel was dressed, teeth brushed, hair somewhat done, underarm deodorant and cologne applied, he made his way back downstairs. He respected Dean’s wishes from earlier, paused outside the kitchen entrance and leaned against the wall. He noticed that the dining room table was set for six as well as a high chair that they kept for when Sam brought baby John and when they babysat. The setup wasn’t terribly remarkable, but the fact that his mate took the time to put this together warmed his heart. Dean had even picked some of the wild flowers that grew around their house and put them into mason jars.

Dean had always teased Castiel about how he was the one who nested when they first moved in together. But Castiel had always argued that Dean had quite the drive for domestic life that rivalled his own. Even though the set up was simple, Castiel couldn’t help but figure that Charlie had her hand in this and had helped Dean.

“May I enter now, Dean?”

After a brief moment Dean hollered, “Sure. Come on in, Cas.”

Castiel turned the corner and smiled when he saw where Dean stood by the stove as he wore the apron Castiel had bought him for Christmas that read: Kiss the chef.

“Okay. Since you insist,” Castiel said and swiftly made his way over to Dean. Without hesitation Castiel reached out for Dean and pulled him closer and their lips collided. Dean’s tongue darted out and licked Castiel’s bottom lip as Castiel opened his mouth to let Dean enter. A soft groan escaped Castiel and he instinctively pressed his groin against Dean’s thigh. After a long moment, Dean was the first one to pull away from the kiss.

“Cas, what are you trying to do to me?” Dean panted, slightly out of breath.

“Your apron told me to.” Castiel and smiled playfully up at him.

“Well, that’s not all I’m talking about.” Dean reached for Castiel’s crotch and cupped his growing erection. Even before their kiss Castiel was aroused, but after the kiss it was even more pronounced. “I should pick your clothes out more often.”

“Or lack thereof?” Castiel quipped immediately. Dean just laughed evilly. Just as he was about to respond, the doorbell sounded.

“We’ll finish this conversation later,” he said and leaned in to kiss Castiel on the forehead and disappeared to let in the first guest.

 

Charlie was the first to arrive with a quinoa salad in hand, of which Dean had to immediately make fun of. “Who eats that healthy shit?”

“I do, Dean,” Castiel answered matter-of-factly, giving him a stern look as if to say, _how dare you insult our friend, she brought food for us?!_

“So do I... and now _you_ will too!” Charlie retorted playfully. However, Dean knew that she would in fact make him have some, no matter what he said.

Sam was the next to arrive with Jessica and baby John in tow moments later. Sam carried John and Jess carted in a box of El Sol beer and a bottle of spiced rum. Gabriel was the last to arrive. His contribution to dinner was, ironically enough, deviled eggs, which made those who knew about ‘Luke’ snicker, and an apple pie that he most likely swiped from Heavenly Coffee.

Once everyone had arrived, Dean made himself comfortable in front of the bar-b-que and started to grill up the steaks with a beer in his hand and a wide proud smile on his face. He had tasked Charlie to keep an eye on the twice baked potatoes in the oven since he just wanted Castiel to relax and enjoy himself. He also figured since she was in on the plan, she could be his little minion for at least an hour anyhow.

Dinner went without a hitch, except for baby John when he threw his potatoes instead of actually eat them. By the time dessert—apple pie and vanilla ice cream—was eaten, Dean was beaming. He didn't even mind the pictures that Charlie insisted on taking of him and Cas. Dean didn’t think he could have been happier. To see Castiel smile and laugh so easily with his family and their friends just made this anniversary gathering all that much more special. He knew that Castiel had felt the effects of Dean’s insecurities and nightmares, which pained him. Dean had thought that he wouldn’t _really_ have to think about that, and only focus on his happy Cas, but he was a bit blindsided by Gabriel who cornered him in the kitchen as he put the last of the dessert dishes into the dishwasher.

“Great dinner, Dean, you make a killer steak!” Gabriel declared jubilantly.

“Thanks. That was an awesome pie, as usual. You are the angel of desserts!” Dean said through laughter and clapped him on the shoulder. Gabriel snorted.

“How are things going with the shop? Enough business going through?”

“Oh hell yeah! Busiest it’s ever been, since old man Bradley closed up his place and retired. No competition. It’s great, but I’m gonna have to hire another mechanic!”

“Hmm... well, don’t get me wrong, that’s _great_...” Gabriel began only to pause.

“ _But_?” Dean said and exaggerated the word.

“Fine. I won’t pussy-foot around. I’m worried about Castiel. He’s tired, distracted when he’s at work and super irritable to the point that I want to buy him Midol! Like, he _seriously_ hasn’t been this dickish... well... since he was with Balthazar.”

Dean was speechless.

“Look man, I know he loves you—like from infinity and beyond,” Gabriel said overly animated, “and you him. I’m not saying your relationship is _anything_ like what he had with Balthy... But _something_ is not right here.” Gabriel kept his gaze on Dean and it made Dean antsy. “I’m worried about him, and if you are—even if it’s unintentionally—hurting Castiel, in _any_ way, I will kick your ass from here to Canada!”

Even though Gabriel was a smaller man and he had wrapped his threat around a slight jovial tone, Dean knew he was serious. Nervously, Dean huffed a low laugh. “I swear to you, I would _never_ hurt Cas. I just haven’t been sleeping well, and he just senses that and so he wakes up too...”

“So you haven’t told him why Anna and I didn’t make it to help you then?” Gabriel asked with slight trepidation.”

“No, I haven’t. Your stupid secret is still safe.”

“It’s not stupid. You know how he’d react if he knew!” Gabriel insisted, and Dean couldn’t really argue with him.

Suddenly Dean’s posture stiffens and he looks past Gabe, who in turn twisted to see who Dean was looking at. Castiel had entered the kitchen and walked with purpose. Dean figured Castiel never heard what they had talked about, but he was positive that Castiel noticed their demeanour as he and Gabriel talked. ‘ _Dammit!_ ’ he thought to himself. Dean didn’t want to get into it with Cas, tonight of all nights.

“Sam and Jessica are packing up John’s things. They wanted me to come get you. They have to head home.”

Dean smiled and nodded. “Sure thing, Cas. Thanks.” he gave Gabriel one last glance before he followed his mate back to the living room to say good-bye.

As it turned out, Sam and Jess had started a trend and everyone else quickly made their exits also. Dean didn’t mind and he could tell Castiel was good with it too, if the looks he gave him all night were anything to go by. “Eye sex” is what Sam had come to call it, which made Dean laugh every time his brother referred to it.

By 10:30pm he and Castiel said good night to their last guest. As they stood in the small foyer, Castiel smiled at Dean and his heart fluttered. It had been a year, but the way Castiel looked at him still messed him up inside—in a _good_ way.

“What?” he asked through laughter.

“Thank you, Dean... for dinner, for gathering our friends and family to celebrate with us... for just being _you_. I can’t imagine my life without you. You make everything so much better.”

“You’re just saying that to get in my pants!” Dean quipped.

A broad smile crossed Castiel’s face that enhanced the crows feet around his eyes. “Maybe... However, it’s accurate and very true. Happy anniversary, Dean. I love you.” Castiel stepped closer to Dean to wrap his arms around the other man to pull him close and crush his lips against Dean’s. Dean sucked on Castiel’s bottom lip and then licked his way into Castiel’s mouth. Castiel reciprocated greedily until Dean pulled back, their lips barely separated and breathing heavily. “I love you too. I _need_ you, Cas...”


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Smut and angst; angst and smut. Enjoy! ;)

It took three different attempts to make their way up to their bedroom, the elusive room that Castiel wondered as to why Dean had made off limits. But Cas was just glad that Dean led the way, his hand grasped firmly in Dean’s as he trailed behind him. Castiel had almost messed things up and asked Dean what he and Gabriel talked about in the kitchen.

“Really, Cas? You want to talk about your brother while I’m trying to seduce you? _Really_?!” Dean snapped. His moss-green eyes narrowed momentarily then softened and gave Castiel an apologetic gaze. “I’m sorry,” he said softly.

“Me too. I don’t know what I was thinking. It just popped into my head.” Castiel answered honestly. He had hit a nerve, but didn’t know why. Castiel could feel his worry bubble in his stomach and he looked at Dean apprehensively.

After a beat, Dean quipped, “Well I sure hope Gabe hasn’t popped into your mind all the other times we’ve had sex.” Castiel couldn’t help but smile wide and slapped Dean hard on the shoulder to get his point across.

“Ow! Okay, okay... So let’s not even make that a one-time occurrence then, shall we?” Dean took Castiel’s hand without another word and together they walked out of the kitchen.

When Dean opened to the door to the bedroom, the scent of sandalwood and flowers wafted past Castiel’s nose. He figured Dean had gathered the few candles from the living room and brought them up here. The room was dark, aside from the white glow of the half-moon that filtered through the curtain, and from what Castiel could see, nothing looked really out of the ordinary.

Dean let go of Castiel’s hand and left him to stand in the doorway. “Hang on a sec.”

Just as Castiel thought, Dean went to light the small gathering of candles that had been placed on the dresser and it created a nice soft yellow glow to the room. Dean pushed play on the iPod and Castiel recognized the music right away. Pink Floyd, one of Dean’s favourite bands. A sly grin crossed Dean’s lips as he looked over his shoulder at Castiel, who still stood in the threshold.

“Come into my lair of love, Cas, if you dare,” Dean said playfully.

“I think I dare.” Castiel replied slyly and walked into the room toward Dean and began to pull off his over shirt.

“Nah-uh! Don’t you dare,” Dean said and waved a finger at his lover. “That’s _my_ job... come ‘ere.”

Castiel couldn’t speak. His Adam’s apple bobbed when he swallowed deeply. To see Dean in the shadowed light and his voice low and demanding made Castiel’s dick twitch in excitement. With each step, his arousal was even more great as his swollen dick rubbed against the soft cotton of the jeans he wore— _Dean’s_ jeans. The moment Castiel stood in front of him, Dean grabbed the lapels of his over shirt and pulled him in close and unconsciously licked his lips. Castiel leaned in the last inch or so to seal the deal and pressed his slightly dry lips to Dean’s moist lips. Castiel’s tongue darted past Dean’s parted mouth and the kiss deepened. Castiel placed his hands onto Dean’s hips and massaged him gently as they continued to kiss.

Without warning, Dean pulled away from Castiel. Both men panted from lack of proper breathing. Even in the dim light, Castiel could see Dean’s eyes sparkle with a sense of playful adventure. He pushed Castiel’s shirt past his shoulders and down to his elbows but stopped. Dean then half-assed wrapped the shirt around Castiel’s arms and trapped them slightly behind his back. Dean then guided Castiel backwards a few steps until the back of his legs touched the bed and left him in a cross between standing and sitting. Castiel leaned forward and tried to lay claim to Dean’s lips once again, but he pulled away and gave Castiel a sly grin.

Torturously slow, Dean pushed up Castiel’s t-shirt to expose his toned stomach. He began to kiss and lick Castiel’s chest, worked his way over to one nipple and flicked it with his tongue until it became hard and sensitive. Dean placed the bud between his teeth and nipped ever so gently, which caused Castiel to hiss. Dean then gave the same treatment to the other nipple. Once satisfied with the teasing, he continued to worship Castiel’s body and licked and kissed his way down his ridiculously toned abs. When he was fully bent over and hovering above the waist band of Castiel’s jeans, Dean fell to his knees before Castiel and reached for the button immediately.

“Dean...” Castiel uttered. His cock was full and strained against his jeans. Castiel wasn’t sure how much more he could take.

“I’m here for ya baby, don’t you worry.” Dean crooned as he looked up at Castiel who was a mess of sexual frustration and want. Castiel knew that was what Dean wanted, and he was successful. Between the teasing and being aroused earlier only led Castiel to the edge embarrassingly quick now. Dean didn’t seem to mind though. He took full advantage of it. Dean’s skillful hands went to work to release Castiel’s fully erect dick. The moment Dean’s fingers touched him Castiel couldn’t help but moan and thrust upwards. After he rubbed his thumb over tip of Castiel’s cock and smeared the bead of pre-cum over the head, Dean leaned in and licked around the sensitive tip before he wrapped his lips around Castiel and slowly swallowed him. Castiel gripped the sheets as best he could and slammed his eyes shut at the delightful sensation of Dean’s warm, wet mouth as he began to work him over. He forced his eyes open and he looked down at Dean as his head bobbed. Castiel got off on watching Dean suck him off, just as much as the blowjob itself.

Castiel desperately wanted to reach out and grasp onto Dean’s short sandy hair, but he was kept in place with the fact that his arms were still somewhat tied with his shirt sleeves. He could have fought his way free of the shirt, but he let it be.

“Ahhh, Deeaaan...” Castiel hissed. He could feel his orgasm build, that familiar coiling sensation deep in his belly. His hips instinctively start to gyrate and thrust upwards slightly. Dean noticed and placed his large hands on top of Castiel’s upper thighs and hip to hold him down. “Either let me come or stop what you’re doing...” Castiel demanded, his voice low and commanding. Although, the moment that Dean stopped what he was doing and released him, he wished he hadn’t said anything at all. Now his dick was left untouched.

Dean rose to his feet and looked down devilishly at Castiel, which nearly tumbled him over the edge without the need of Dean’s touch. All Castiel could do was watch as Dean undressed himself. Only once Dean was naked did he return his full attention onto Castiel. Dean leaned in, and as he reached behind Castiel, he lovingly kissed Castiel’s forehead, then his cheek, and then took Castiel’s earlobe into his mouth and sucked on it. All the while Dean freed Castiel of the make-shift binding. Dean stood upright again and slid the long sleeve shirt off of Castiel. He then grabbed the bottom of Castiel’s t-shirt and began to hike it up until Castiel took over and removed it completely.

“Up...” Dean commanded, his voice gravelly, exposing that he’s not as composed as he appeared, which Castiel couldn’t help but smirk at. Castiel followed Dean’s orders and stood. In doing so, his undone jeans slipped further down his hips. Castiel barely touched the jeans and they fell to the floor. He easily stepped out of them and flung them away with his foot. Unable to restrain his hunger for Dean any longer, Castiel grasped onto his shoulders firmly and pulled him in close to mash their lips together. Their kiss was a wet delightful mess of tongue and teeth. Both men moaned and hissed as their erections rubbed against each other as they absentmindedly started to grind against each other. Dean’s roaming hands rubbed and caressed Castiel’s firm shoulders, down his muscular back until he grasped in each hand the globes of Castiel’s ass. Castiel teased Dean back and shifted his weight so that he could slot a thigh between Dean’s legs. Castiel lifted his knee ever so gently and pressed up against Dean’s balls, which granted him a long whimper of want from Dean. Castiel, wanting to further arouse Dean, replaced his massaging knee with a firm hand on Dean’s swollen dick and began to slowly pump him. Dean sucked in a breath and leaned forward to rest his forehead to Castiel’s shoulder as he was worked over.

After a moment, Dean’s hands began to wander again. This time one hand slid around Castiel’s hip to reciprocate a hand job, the other skated over Castiel’s lower back and down until Dean’s fingers slipped between Castiel’s ass crack to rub at his puckered hole.

“Need you, Cas...” Dean crooned into his neck. Castiel knew what Dean wanted. Most of the time Dean was the one who wanted to be taken, however, Castiel had noticed that over the last few months the need for Dean to have Castiel had grown. Castiel would never deprive him or deny him. But he couldn’t help but feel that it was Dean’s way of physically showing him how much he loved him—as though Dean’s words of love and devotion were never enough. This lead to weird mind games for Castiel whenever they would switch roles. He loved to be taken by Dean; that was never the issue. It was the initial underlying worry that Castiel had a hard time shaking off, that was until Dean was truly giving it to him, which by that time, nothing else mattered. It was just him and Dean, and their love and lust for each other that rocked Castiel’s entire world and being.

Dean’s voice broke Castiel from his wandering thoughts. “Want you so bad, baby.”

“You know I’m yours, Dean. Always and forever,” Castiel whispered into his mate’s ear. Dean’s green eyes sparkle with love, but when he swooped in for a kiss it revealed to Castiel his desperation and he could taste the bitterness of Dean’s fear, and it broke Castiel’s heart. All he could do was kiss Dean just as fervently to show him how much he adored Dean and hope that it got through to him.

Castiel was the one to break the fervent kiss first. He quickly stepped toward the nearby nightstand for the lube and opened the drawer for the box of condoms. Castiel paused when he felt Dean touch his bicep gently. He looked questioningly over his shoulder at Dean.

Without having to ask what’s wrong, Dean says, “We’ve been together a year now. We both know we are clean, so that’s not an issue...” Dean’s words trail off and his cheeks flush pink.

“What is it Dean?”

“Can’t we just, you know...”

When Dean fails to finish his thought, Castiel verbalized what he thinks Dean is trying to say. “Bareback?” he says casually.

“Yeah. Does that weird you out? We don’t have to if you don’t want to.”

“Dean, why would that weird me out? I love you. I trust you. I would do anything for you. This is not an unusual, nor an unreasonable request. You can have me _any_ way you want,” Castiel said sincerely. Admittedly, Castiel had never barebacked before, but he wasn’t afraid to do that. It actually made his heart speed in anticipation at the thought of _really_ feeling Dean with no barriers, to feel him spill his load in him, to feel Dean’s seed dribble out of him.

Castiel closed the drawer, passed the lube to Dean then climbed onto the bed and waited for Dean to join him. Castiel lay on his back, and spread his legs to show himself off to Dean. He watched Dean as he crawled on the bed and settled himself between Castiel’s legs. Setting the lube off to the side, Dean grabbed a pillow and without any instructions, Castiel lifted his hips so Dean could put the pillow under his ass to raise him up some. Unable to hold back his own desires, Castiel reached up and grasped onto Dean’s shoulders and forced him down to press their kiss bruised lips together. Taking advantage of Dean’s body pressed against his, their dicks slotted alongside each other, Castiel began to thrust. Their breathing intensified as they deliberately gyrated against each other slowly, yet with earnest desire. Dean placed a hand on either side of Castiel’s head and pushed himself up and looked down at his lover.

“What are you trying to do to me? You’re not playing fair, Cas. Not gonna last long if we keep that up.” Castiel agreed, but still rolled his eyes at Dean.

“Then hurry up and fuck me already then.” Castiel said teasingly.

“Just for that, I’m gonna make you wait!” Dean slithered backwards, down Castiel’s body and deliberately rubbed Castiel’s dick the whole way which caused Castiel to whimper and cry out. Dean paused when his face was buried in Castiel’s nether-regions. He placed his large hand around Castiel’s aching cock and licked the tip, loving the taste of Castiel. After a few teasing pumps, Dean removed his hand, licked the bulging vein and followed it down to his balls. Castiel mewled indecently and Dean relished in it.

Dean’s tongue slid over Castiel’s perineum and licked at his hole to get Castiel wet with saliva. Castiel sucked in a breath when he felt Dean’s wet, hot tongue push at his hole. When Castiel exhaled, Dean pushed his tongue in and started to slowly tongue fuck Castiel to open him up. Castiel was instantly on the edge. He reached down and cupped himself at the base of his throbbing cock to prevent coming too soon.

Castiel growled. “Oh, fuck... DEAN!” He was sure Dean grinned at his torture. Castiel couldn’t handle it any longer. If Dean wanted to play that way, then he’d play that game also. Castiel wasn’t sure how much more stimulation he could handle before he lost his load and didn’t want to come until Dean was inside him. He wanted Dean to benefit from his orgasm as well. Castiel knew that nothing beat the pulsing of an asshole around a dick when their partner came.

After a few long moments of Dean’s masterful rim-job, Castiel surprised Dean as he slid his body away from Dean’s invading tongue. Dean looked at Castiel confused, and worry altered his features. Castiel knew that Dean wondered if he had hurt him somehow. But rather than console or answer his voiceless question, Castiel reached for the bottle of lube, opened it and poured an extreme amount of the gel onto his hand. In frustration, pure want and desire, he tossed the bottle away aimlessly. He nearly attacked Dean’s dick with the lube which caused Dean to hiss from the cool temperature as Castiel slathered his cock. Castiel climbed onto his knees and used his clean hand to push Dean back onto the bed and lay back. Awkwardly, Dean managed to do what Castiel demanded. Unable to contain his need to be filled, Castiel climbed on top of Dean, his thighs cradling Dean’s hips. With his lubed hand he reached around and slicked himself also, then slowly inserted one of his own long fingers inside. Dean watched as Castiel fingered himself and reached for his own dick to play with the head of it.

“Oh yeah, baby, get ready for me,” Dean uttered, which was followed by a moan of excitement when Castiel inserted a second digit to prepare himself for Dean.

Between being unable to hold back his desire to be fucked and the feeling that he was opened enough to take the girth of Dean, Castiel slipped his fingers out and took Dean’s cock into his hands. He placed the head of Dean’s dick just right at his entrance and pushed down gently on it. A deep moan escaped Castiel’s lips the moment the head of Dean’s cock passed his rim and entered him, inch, by gloriously swollen inch, until he was fully seated and could feel Dean’s balls pressed against his ass. The feeling for both men is almost more than they can bear. The fact that they could _feel_ each other, so hot and slick, was more intense than either had been able to conceive.

After a brief moment to revel in the feeling of Dean as he filled him, Castiel started to rotate his hips but kept himself fully seated. It was now Dean’s turn to moan indecently at Castiel’s slow movement. “Oh, yeah... fuck me... FUCK me, baby!” Dean uttered his throaty demands. Castiel placed his hands on Dean’s pecs to brace himself as he lifted up and almost freed himself of Dean. He felt his hole tighten at the emptiness then slowly pushed down again. Dean reached out and grasped onto Castiel’s hips when he started to fuck Dean with a growing intensity. Both men were dangerously near the edge of orgasm. This time Castiel was okay with that and knew that Dean would let him come easily now without teasing or hesitation.

The licentious sound of their bodies as they smacked together and their heavy breathing was the only thing they heard as all other sounds in the room faded away. Castiel suddenly leaned his body forward and pressed his chest against Dean’s as he continued to fuck himself on Dean’s dick. Dean may have been the one to fuck Castiel, but Castiel was the one in control as he angled his body just right to hit his prostate, over and over and over again, while the ever needed friction for his ignored cock he got as he rubbed against Dean’s stomach.

“Oh fuck... ah.... Deeeaaann.... Ahhh...” Castiel sat upright and took one of Dean’s hands off of his hips and placed it onto his dick. Dean immediately began to jack Castiel off to the same rhythm that Castiel fucked down onto him and he thrust up into Castiel. Only a few strokes later Castiel cried out and pushed down onto Dean’s cock as his orgasm blinded him momentarily in pure rapture. As he opened his eyes, he caught the tail end of his orgasm as white ropes of his cum soiled Dean’s sweaty chest.

“Oh, Casss... yeeessss....” Dean hissed and thrust up into Castiel one last time as he orgasmed seconds after, triggered by Castiel’s ass as it clenched down on him. Castiel rolled his hips a few times to help milk Dean further and loved the feel of Dean as he spurt deep inside him.

Castiel leaned forward and they kissed lazily before Castiel lay against him, not caring that he smeared his cum between them. Both men breathed heavily and their hearts raced as they felt the other’s heartbeat thumping in their chests. After a few long moments Castiel slid off of Dean and lay beside him. “That was amazing Dean— _you_ are amazing. Thank you for such a wonderful anniversary. I don’t think I have ever been as happy as I am right now. I honestly can’t wait to see what our future holds for us.” Castiel crooked his neck so he could see Dean. The moment he did, he wished he hadn’t. The sparkle of love was there in his eyes, without a doubt, but there was a glint of sorrow behind it that unsettled Castiel. Dean gave him a warm smile and kissed the top of Castiel’s head.

“I love you more than you will ever know, Cas. Our future, no doubt, will be filled with nothing but awesome.”

More than anything Castiel wanted to question Dean. To ask him what it was that bothered him—but he didn’t want to ruin the moment, nor the bliss that he was currently still high on. So he opted to just lay in Dean’s arms until the chill from his sweaty skin made it too uncomfortable to ignore.

Castiel was the first to make his way to the bathroom to clean up. While Dean took his turn in the bathroom, Castiel slipped on a fresh pair of underwear and pulled on his favourite gray sweats. They hung low on his hips and revealed the V line he had and Castiel knew that Dean loved it. Once dressed, he moved on to pull off the soiled comforter and replace it with another. By the time he was done all this, Dean was still in the bathroom.

Castiel raps on the door gently. “Are you ok?”

The water at the sink suddenly comes on. “Yeah, I’ll be right there. Can you get us something to drink? I don’t care what it is. Whatever you want is fine with me.” Castiel could swear Dean’s voice sounded strained and he _knew_ that Dean was trying to preoccupy him by giving him a task.

“Sure,” he replied simply. Castiel stared at the door for a moment longer before he headed down to the kitchen. Distracted by his worry, Castiel only grabbed a large glass of ice water and headed back upstairs.

When he entered their bedroom, Dean was already under the comforter and reading a magazine. All the candles had been blown out which filled the room with the sharp smell of smoldering wick. The bedside lamp on Dean’s side had been turned on, and it wasn’t until then that Castiel noticed Dean’s original playlist of music had been over long ago and he had now turned the iPod back on. This time he had chosen one of Castiel’s playlists and the gentle melody of the Blues filled the room. Dean looked calm, pacified and content.

 _Maybe I’m just imagining things_ , Castiel thought to himself. But he knew better. With a soft sigh, he made his way to the bed then handed Dean the glass of water. He looked up from his magazine, eyed up Castiel as he stood there with the offered glass in his hand and gave him a wink.

“Lookin’ good, Cas.”

Just at that moment, the next song began to play—I Put A Spell On You—and both men couldn’t help but laugh. With that, Dean took the glass and Castiel climbed into bed.

Dean continued to read while Castiel curled up beside him. Castiel closed his eyes and listened to the music. He was so happy and content it made Castiel’s heart swell. But the longer he lay against Dean, he couldn’t help but sense a growing anxiety emit from Dean. He didn’t know where it came from or what could have triggered it. Castiel then wondered what may have happened to him in the bathroom.

“Dean?”

“Yeah, Cas?”

Castiel still laid his head against the side of Dean’s chest, but he could feel Dean put the magazine down, giving him his full attention.

“You know, I will always be here for you, right?”

“Of course. Why do you say that?”

“It’s just... I want you to know that if you need to talk to someone, please talk to me. Please give me the chance to try and help you if you need it.” Castiel paused and sat up so that he could look into Dean’s eyes, so that Dean would know that he was sincere and concerned for his well-being. “Whatever is bothering you—and don’t try and tell me that nothing is, I _know_ there’s something going on with you—I will _always_ be here for you! Nothing you say will ever scare me off. You do know that, right?”

“Cas, come on man, nothing’s up. Just let it go.”

After a long staring match, Castiel finally responded. “No. I will not _just let it go_. I’m tired of you ignoring what’s going on. Or maybe more accurately, I’m tired of you leaving me in the dark when _clearly_ you need to tell me something! _Just talk to me, Dean!_ "

Dean pulled his gaze away from Castiel and tossed the magazine haphazardly onto the nightstand. “I said drop it, Cas,” he growled. When Dean pulled the comforter off of himself and swung his legs over the edge of the bed to leave, Castiel reached out and grabbed firmly onto his arm.

“Dean, wait.”

“No. I said _NO_!” Dean practically yelled, for the first time ever, at Castiel. That alone would have made Castiel jump, but ultimately it was the sudden pop of the filament in the light-bulb as it exploded that caused him to be startled. Castiel could see that in the pale moon light that filtered through the curtain that Dean sat stock still, his back still to him. When Castiel saw Dean’s shoulders slump in defeat, he knew he was ready to finally talk to him.


	5. Chapter 5

Dean stiffened the moment he felt Castiel’s gentle touch on his shoulder. He really wasn’t ready to talk yet, but he knew Castiel was. “What’s going on, Dean? What was that?” He asked without a single ounce of judgement or anger, only concern, and that oddly enough made it all the more difficult for him to tell Castiel what bothered him.

“Cas, I... I really don’t want to talk about this,” Dean uttered, sounding defeated. He could hear Castiel sigh in disappointment.

“I’m worried Dean. I’m worried about your mental health... I’m worried about your magickal essence...” Castiel paused before he continued his thoughts. “Your natural magicks has grown ten-fold since you did that spell where I inadvertently got my wings back. Why didn’t you tell me?”

Dean could hear the hurt dripping in his voice. He didn’t need to see Castiel’s face to know that he had hurt him deeply by not talking to him. “I dunno Cas, okay. I just—I didn’t want you to judge me or be freaked out by it I guess.”

“I would _never_ judge you!” Castiel responded immediately, his voice stern. “Nor would I ever be afraid of you Dean,” he added, this time his voice soft and growly. Dean could feel Castiel climb off the bed. He figured he was just too much for Castiel to handle any longer and had to leave to regain his own mental stability. Dean closed his eyes bowed his head in shame. But Dean was greatly mistaken. He felt Castiel’s presence suddenly and looked up to see Castiel above him. Castiel’s face was twisted in a sorrowful furrow.

They stared at each other for a long moment before Castiel spoke. “Do you really think that little of me, and my love for you?” he asked, his voice choked. Dean knew he was on the verge of tears.

Dean sighed. _Great, I’ve gone and done it again! Why do I keep on hurting him? That’s not what I meant!_

Before Dean could even respond, Castiel added, “If you don’t know by now that I’m here for you, that if you tumbled into that personal hell of yours that you spoke of and you don’t realize that I would go and pull you from your perdition, then I don’t know what to say or do for you anymore. If you do not realize how much I love you...” Castiel’s words trailed off. Dean didn’t want to hear him finish that, and he figured Castiel didn’t want to say it out loud.

It wasn’t until Castiel reached out to wipe the tears from his cheek that Dean realized he had cried. “I know, Cas. Believe me, I do know! I’m just an idiot.”

Castiel didn’t say a word, only shook his head in disagreement. Cas was a smart man, he knew to keep quiet even when Dean himself didn’t recognize that he was about to finally confess what the root of all his recent issues stemmed from. Cas was also a patient man. After about five minutes of silence, Castiel sat beside Dean on the bed. And after about fifteen minutes of sitting in silence, every once and a while rubbing Dean’s back through a few false starts, Dean finally and truly began to talk to Castiel—and he listened without interruption.

“It had been virtually the same dream until recently. Those I could handle for the most part. But when it changed... Well, you know when that started,” Dean said and looked quickly at Castiel, gave him a weak smile, then looked away. If he was going to do this, he couldn’t look at Castiel. “I don’t really remember _how_ I get to this point in the dream, but I always do.” Dean paused again. He really didn’t want to talk about this, but he knew if he didn’t, he would fuck up his relationship with Cas and Dean didn’t want to make it any worse than it had already become. He couldn’t live without Cas in his life. Castiel was his rock, his anchor in life. Dean knew he had to tell Castiel even though it gutted him to do so.

With a long sufferable sigh, Dean continued. “I’m in... well, _Hell_ , I guess. I’m in a dank room, dimly lit and tied up to what my mind has decided to lovingly call, The Rack. My arms and legs are bound by thick rope that’s cutting deep into my skin, ‘cause of course I’m fighting it. I’m naked and the metal of the table is so cold it burns my skin. By this time in my dream I have already been cut at, burned, ripped apart and tortured for what feels like an eternity.” Dean paused, his breath hitched as he fought back tears. After a long moment, he blurts out, “It’s you, Cas.” He finally admitted out-loud what he never wanted to and the moment Castiel’s name passed his lips, his tears fell freely down his cheeks. “You are the one ripping me apart.” Dean paused again and gathered the courage to continue. He was grateful that Castiel didn’t react, well, verbally anyhow. His face was a mask for the most part. Dean was only able to catch a glimpse of the shock in his eyes at Dean’s words.

Sucking in a deep breath, he continued. “With a single touch you’d repair me, make me whole again—only to start all over. I beg for you to stop, but your eyes are black and you ignore my pleas. Luke is beside you, egging you on, teaching you how to rip me apart slowly and painfully.

“Eventually Crowley walks in to see how the lesson is going and he gives his two cents on his torture protocol. By this time, you are covered in my blood. I’ve been slashed at and torn apart by you for hours. When Crowley approaches, I see a beacon of hope and I call out your name over and over hoping to break through to _you_. Around Crowley’s neck is a necklace with a small glass bottle with brilliant blue-white light, and I _know_ it’s your grace! If you’d only take it back, then you’d be you again, and my pain would end. I yell at you, ‘take your grace back! If you don’t, what’s happening to me will happen to everyone on earth when the gates of Hell are opened!’

“Somehow one of my bindings come lose and I’m able to grab a hold of your arm. At first you look down at me, snarling, black eyes a reminder that you are not you. But then the black of your eyes appear to swirl like obsidian coloured ink in a glass of water until the intensity lightens to grey and then eventually I see your sapphire eyes once again as it clears completely. You call out my name, sounding like you don’t know where you are or how you got there. I beg you to take your grace back again, and then...” Dean stopped. He took a deep breath in then exhaled slowly. “Luke comes up behind you and all I see is a silver blade suddenly protruding through your chest—through your heart! You’re eyes widen in shock until they land on me and you look peaceful, as if you’re okay with your own death... That’s when I wake up screaming, or unable to scream at all. Cas...” Dean couldn’t speak any longer as his words were choked out by his sobs.

Dean thought he’d feel better after he revealed this to Castiel, but he didn’t. There was a new panic growing in him that suddenly seemed so much more plausible and eclipsed any rational thought he may have had. He had fought this feeling for months now, didn’t want to believe that what he was afraid of may be possible—that this was more than just a dream. That it was a premonition.

Castiel was quiet—too quiet, and Dean didn’t like it. His heart started to race from his growing fear. He didn’t know what Castiel thought or felt and panic started to settle in. _I knew it was a bad idea to talk!_

Dean turned to look at Castiel. “Say something— _anything_!”

Castiel turned and met Dean’s pleading gaze. “I would _never_ do that to you Dean,” he said seriously. So serious that Dean could not help but chuckle. “It’s not funny.”

“I know, Cas. It’s not, and I _do_ know that _you_ would never hurt me. Like I said, it’s just a dream—a friggin’ nightmare to mess with me. I don’t know why I’m having them. Maybe it’s some deep psychological thing where I’m trying to trick myself out of domestic bliss with you.” Dean pauses for a moment and looks at Castiel, whose eyes reveal his shock, horror and displeasure at Dean’s words. “I’m kidding Cas.”

After a long moment of silence and a locked gaze, Castiel finally said, “We’ll figure it out Dean—together.” Castiel leaned in toward Dean and kissed him on the temple. “Maybe you won’t have the nightmare now that you’ve told me about it. Talking about it can be cathartic.”

“Yeah... I hope so.” Dean really did, but he couldn’t help but shake the feeling that he would still suffer the nightmare. He was exhausted. All he wanted to do was lie in bed, hold Castiel close and let his calm energy soothe Dean’s confusion and fear. “Let’s go to bed.”

Castiel nodded in agreement. “Okay.” Stripped of his jogging pants, Castiel joined Dean, who was already under the covers in his boxer-briefs, and on his side with his back to Castiel. Castiel crept toward Dean and became the big spoon and wrapped an arm around Dean’s waist. “Good night, Dean.” He said and kissed his bicep.

“Night, Cas... happy anniversary.”


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I meant to post yesterday; totally didn't realize that yesterday was Thurdsay! Yes, I have lost my mind. Makes life interesting. Ha!

That night, much to Castiel’s disappointment, Dean had the nightmare again. When Dean had begun to scream out, Castiel called out his name, touched Dean’s arm and rubbed it soothingly in an attempt to wake him carefully. When that didn’t work, Castiel then shook him gently. Thankfully that was enough to bring Dean out of it and he woke up. Immediately Dean wrapped Castiel up in his arms, but remained silent.

Even though it was early, too early even, for Castiel to wake and get ready to open the coffee shop, he did anyhow. There was no way he would get back to sleep and even if he did, it would make him more tired in the long run. When Dean had gotten out of bed to join him, Castiel tried to get Dean to go back to sleep because he didn’t have to be up for another three hours, but when he refused, Castiel let it go. He knew that Dean felt guilty that he woke him up early.

After Castiel showered and dressed, he found Dean in the kitchen where he had made coffee and breakfast for them both. Dean sipped his mug of black coffee and waited for the scrambled eggs to cook as Castiel sat at the kitchen table.

“It’s almost ready. Here’s your coffee.” Dean grabbed the lidless to-go cup and placed it in front of Castiel. He looked down at the beige liquid in the mug and smiled. Unlike Dean, Castiel liked his coffee creamy and sweet. “Thank you, Dean. I appreciate you doing this, but it wasn’t necessary.”

“Yeah, well... coffee is _always_ a necessity at this hour,” he quipped. Castiel couldn’t disagree.

They ate their eggs in silence and Castiel loathed every moment. Castiel could feel the strain between them and it both irritated him and worried him.

After he debated saying something while he ate, Castiel finally spoke, “It’s just a dream, Dean. Everything will be fine. This’ll pass, I know it will.” He placed the plate in the sink, breaking the unnerving silence. Even as he said it, Castiel had a fleeting moment, a thought, that maybe it really wasn’t just a dream. With the light bulb blowing up and the fact that Dean emanates a power that even Castiel had been able to sense for a while now—like a form of electricity that surrounds Dean—he can’t help but wonder if maybe something more has been awakened in Dean. Castiel can’t help but wonder if maybe Dean’s nightmare is in fact a form of premonition. But if that were the case, Castiel disliked that conclusion even more. He doesn’t understand. If that _were_ true, how and to what end would cause Castiel to torture Dean? Castiel knew there would be no way he’d do such a thing. He would let himself be killed before he’d allow himself to be changed like that and hurt Dean.

“I know you are just trying to make me feel better, but really Cas, I’m _fine_. Go to work. Bake stuff, brew coffee... just get out of here and stop worrying.”

Castiel just furrowed his brow and scowled at Dean. He couldn’t help but be bothered by how blasé he was being, but Castiel knew that if he pushed Dean too much that it would have the reverse effect so, again, he let it go. “Fine,” he growled. “Call me when you’re on your break?”

“Will do, worry wart,” Dean quipped. He swooped in and kissed Castiel on top of his head. “Now, go!”

Practically pushed out of the house, Castiel couldn’t help but wonder why Dean wanted him to leave so readily. A million little things, and a few big conspiracy theories, passed through Castiel’s mind. His biggest concern was that he had in fact pushed Dean too much to talk the night before and he didn’t want Castiel near him. His heart sank in his chest and a lump formed in his throat. _I pushed too much and too far... I’ve gone and messed everything up!_ Castiel thought to himself as he turned the key to open Heavenly Coffee.

Even though he was really early, Castiel went through the steps to get ready for the day anyhow. The fact that he was alone with his thoughts for an hour before Gabriel showed up was not good. He was edgy and in a pissy mood by the time his brother came through the doors saying his usual mantra.

“Do you really have to say that every fucking time you come in here?” Castiel snapped, seemingly unwarranted to Gabriel.

“Whoa, who pissed in your Cornflakes?!” Gabriel retorted, his arms rise in an, _I surrender_ , motion. It was then that Gabe noticed pretty much everything was good to go to prep lunch already.

Castiel’s shoulders slumped in shame. “I’m sorry, Gabe.”

“How long have you been here?”

“Long enough.”

“What did Dean do? If he hurt you, I’ll kick his sorry ass into tomorrow—I’m not kidding Castiel!” Gabriel’s golden eyes narrowed and a look of protective ferociousness altered his usual playful demeanour.

“Nothing...” Castiel let his thought trail. Gabriel didn’t care for his response and didn’t believe him.

“You two were so disgustingly lovey-dovey last night at your anniversary shin-dig, and now you’re super-pissy. Something had to have happened—now _spill_!

After a long moment of a silent glaring argument between the two, Castiel finally chose to speak, “I think Dean has had a premonition.”

“Uh... oookaaay...” Gabriel said ineloquently. He was completely taken aback by what Castiel finally divulged and he could see that Gabriel wasn’t expecting that response.

Castiel sighed. “And I think the premonition is about Luke, Crowley and my stolen grace.” At that Gabriel’s eyes widen like saucers and he began to fidget.

“What is it, Gabriel? What do you know—what are you hiding from me?” Castiel stalked over to Gabriel where he towered over him and scowled.

“Ah, come on man... Back off. I’ll tell you. It’s just something stupid.”

Castiel takes a step back. Not that he was going to actually do anything to Gabe, he still wanted to instill in his ‘brother’ that he was more than capable to make him talk. “If it’ll help me, help Dean, then I need to know.”

After a moment to gather his thoughts, Gabriel went full-tilt and spilled what info he had held back from Castiel. “So... When Crowley was kicking your ass into next week,” he began, his voice in a joking manner, but Castiel could see the sorrow in Gabriel’s eyes. “Uh, our dick of a brother was, well, being a total dick. Anna and I had gone to Luke for help, for answers, but all we got was him being an ass. Even though I had only seen you and Dean together that one time, I knew— _I knew_ —he was the one meant for you. I have to admit, I was jealous at first. I’ve been here, re-living this life of mine _how_ many times over now? And you... you’ve only been fallen for what—a few hundred? But I guess it is what it is.” Gabriel sighed. “Anyhoo, back to our dick brother. When Anna and I went to speak with him, he was half-ass pleased that you were in trouble. Of course, at the time, none of us knew how bad it had gotten. We figured you’d be fine since you did get your wings back ‘n’ all.” Again, Gabriel’s sadness crept in to his usual jovial self, which disheartened Castiel. He didn’t want anyone to feel bad about what had happened to him. In his mind it was fate. He was supposed to go through that. Their Father even chose to bring him back! That’s how Castiel knew that to go through Crowley’s torture and his eventual death at the hands of that demon, was Castiel’s penance. He was okay with the fact that he died. Castiel just had to remind himself that others were not—and that they were allowed to feel that way if they needed to.

“Luke was getting all preachy with Anna and I, you know how he can get.” Gabriel rolled his eyes and snorted a laugh. Then his smile faded. “Well, he told us that he wanted to use Dean’s blood to get his wings back—to get all of our wings back. He would sacrifice Dean to do so if he had to. Which, we all know, Enochian blood magicks _never_ asks for just a drop,” he says sarcastically. “There was no way, come hell or high water, that I was going to allow my brother’s love to be killed so that I could get my wings back. Something in me snapped, I guess, too many years of protecting you—as much as I hate to admit it.” Gabe winked at Castiel and he gave Gabe a weak grin in return. Castiel understood. Not only were they angelic brothers, but by blood on this earth they had been family for so many years as well. They would forever be bound in some way shape or form. Ultimately, Castiel would have to admit the same thing toward Luke; however, the ties there weren’t as strong. Castiel didn’t know if it was an age thing difference or not. Lucifer _had_ been born many millennia before their Father decided to create more angels, and the fact that Castiel was only a lowly soldier angel and not an archangel like him (as Luke had said when he was in the hospital, human once again), but then again, Gabriel was also an archangel. However, Gabriel _was_ younger.... It was all too much for Castiel to ponder on.

Castiel broke free of his sudden train of thought when Gabriel said, “At first we just argued verbally until that led to good ol’ fisticuffs.” Gabriel raised his fists and brought them up to ‘protect’ his face as if he were about to box, then lowered his arms when he didn’t get any reaction from Castiel. Gabriel just hummed his displeasure at Castiel’s too stoic nature and continued. “So the long short of it? Anna called the police as I got my ass kicked by Luke. We both were arrested. That’s why Anna and I were not there to help you. I’m so sorry Castiel.”

“You needn’t be sorry, Gabriel. It’s not your fault that Lucifer is a supreme assbutt.”

Gabriel snorted a laugh. “Really, Castiel, you still say assbutt? Ah, man...”

Castiel just shrugged his shoulders. “It works.”

“That is does, brother... that is does.” Gabriel’s wide grin faded and he locked his sudden serious gaze on Castiel. “I may have divulged this to Dean. Maybe that’s why you thought he had a premonition. It’s not. It’s just a dream that I accidently manifested in him.”

“You what?! Why would you tell him that?!” Castiel was a nice mix of pissed off and shocked that Gabriel would do such a thing.

“Hey, it’s totally not my fault! I put equal parts blame on me, Dean _and_ the bottle of whiskey we were drinking. Stupid house parties.” Gabriel sighed. “Look, he was pressing me to tell him why I wasn’t there to help you that day. He was pissed at me. After a while, it got to be grating and I just found myself spew out what had happened.”

Castiel was quiet as he worked out all that Gabriel had said and he could see it made Gabriel uneasy. “Thank you for telling me, Gabe.” Castiel finally said to try and put his brother at ease. He could totally see how Dean could drive him to talk. Dean was both cunning and annoying at the same time. With that thought, Castiel couldn’t help but smile.

After their chat, the two of them went their separate ways. Gabriel grabbed veggies that would go into the daily soup special and Castiel took his coffee and sat at one of the many tables that were usually reserved for customers. Castiel placed the newspaper in front of him, to feign that he read it and was not obsessed or over thinking what Gabriel had told Dean. Absentmindedly he would turn the page every so often and take a sip from his mug, and as he did, Castiel couldn’t help shake the idea that even though Gabe had told Dean how Luke wanted to use him to get his wings back, it didn’t coincide with when Dean’s dreams had started to turn really bad. And Castiel figured the last house party they were even at was only three weeks ago. Dean’s dreams had started to affect him long before that. Castiel was still not sure it was _just_ a dream.

By the time Charlie arrived, Castiel’s mind furiously raced. The one person he hadn’t talked to yet was Sam, and the urge to see if Dean had talked to his brother became overwhelmingly strong. With that idea in his mind, he didn’t care that he would get to Sam’s office just as Sam would arrive. Castiel had to talk to him. He hoped that Sam knew something. _Anything_. Without much formality, Castiel excused himself and left the opening of the shop to Charlie and Gabe, told them that he had errands to run and would try to be back before the lunch rush to help out.

 

Sam’s office wasn’t very large and stylistically, decor-wise, it was much more down to earth than most law firm offices. It was only him and Pamela Barnes. Their practice was appropriately named, Winchester & Barnes. Early into Sam’s career he came across Pam while at another court case where he saw her work her magic, and he wanted her to join him. She was smart, sassy, had amazing skills at unearthing hard to find information, and Pam could get anyone to tell the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth. The two of them together were a dynamic duo that many didn’t want to tangle with.

The door chimed when Castiel pushed the door open and walked into the waiting room. A plump black woman looked up from what she was doing and an immediate broad smile crossed her face the moment she saw Castiel.

“Good morning, sweetheart!” Missouri called out cheerfully in her unique cadence. Castiel gave her a smile that attempted to mask the worry that was just below the surface. “What are you doing here, and so early?” She asked as her tone changed from cheerful to a hint of concern. For the year that he’d known her, Castiel had always been impressed by her intuition.

“I need to speak with Sam. Is he in yet?” Castiel responded, to keep it simple.

“He isn’t, but you can wait in his office. Sam should be here very soon, honey.”

“Alright, Missouri, I will, thank you.”

The door to Sam’s office was only a few steps to the right of Missouri’s desk, and to the left of it was Pamela’s office door. Castiel pushed open the oak door labeled: Sam Winchester, and walked in but left it open. He took a seat in one of the two chairs that sat in front of Sam’s large antique desk and waited. Thankfully, Castiel only had to wait for five minutes before he heard Sam walk through the front door.

Castiel’s Adam’s apple bobbed when he swallowed nervously. At first he was bound and determined to find out if Sam knew anything, but now, Castiel was afraid that he might actually learn something. Castiel took a deep breath and silently scolded himself.

“Hey, Cas. What’s up? You okay?”

Castiel jumped at the sudden closeness of Sam’s voice. He hadn’t realized Sam was in the doorway to his office already. Castiel eyed Sam up. He looked professional, despite his long hair, and he dressed in dark denim, a button up white shirt with thin blue pinstripes and a blue tie to match that was a bit looser than what would be considered the norm.

“Good morning, Sam. Sorry I’m here so early. I just... I’d like to speak with you about Dean,” Castiel said, and got straight to the point. Sam’s body stiffened and he cocked his head and looked at Castiel in a way that silently questioned him.

Sam suddenly turned around to face Missouri. “Hold all my calls until I’m done here with Castiel. Thanks.” Missouri didn’t answer, so Castiel figured she must have just nodded her understanding. Sam then closed the door behind him. Rather than sit behind his desk, Sam grabbed the chair beside Castiel and turned it so he could see him straight on. “What’s wrong? What happened? Are you two okay?”

Castiel smiled warmly at Sam’s concern for him and Dean. “We are fine, Sam. That’s not why I’m here.”

“Is Dean in trouble?”

“I’m not really sure.” Castiel paused. He suddenly found it hard to look at Sam so he turned his attention away and eyed up the multitude books the floor to ceiling bookshelves, and then eventually back at Sam. “I don’t really know how to say this.”

“It’s okay, Cas, go ahead,” Sam prodded gently.

“Have you noticed anything different about Dean? Since he’s met me?”

Sam laughed lightly. “Well, hell yeah. He’s the most content I think I have ever seen him. It’s amazing, really.”

Castiel should have smiled at that, but something in him was saddened by it and his brow furrowed in sorrow.

“Hey, Cas buddy... What’s going on?” Castiel could hear the worry and unease grow in Sam’s voice.

“I didn’t mean about Dean’s happiness. I’m pleased, _beyond belief_ , that I have been able to bring a peace and joy to Dean—as he does for me as well. But what I’m talking about is more of a magickal change. I think he’s experiencing things and he’s physically... mentally... I’m not one-hundred percent sure, but either way he’s different. I—I think he’s been having a repeated premonition. Has he ever talked to you about any of this?” Sam’s shoulders slumped and he sat back in the chair. Castiel could tell that Sam knew something.

“Well, to be honest, Dean _did_ ask me questions quite a few months back about when we had cast some spells and if I had felt any different afterwards. I didn’t really know what he was getting at though.”

“So Dean has been experiencing something then... for a while.” Castiel replied, more like a statement rather than a question.

“Yeah, seems so.” Sam finally said and sounded distracted. He tilted his head in thought, and Castiel stayed quiet. He didn’t know what to say anyhow. Without warning, Sam suddenly asked, “What’s the premonition? Were you able to get that out of Dean?” A crooked grin played on Castiel’s lips at the question, for Sam knew Dean well and knew how Dean was not the best when it came to sharing.

“Yes, after much prodding and a few fights, he did relinquish that bit of info.”

Sam’s full bellied laughter filled the room.

“He may be a stubborn ass, but I hate to fight with him and it wasn’t all that funny.” Castiel frowned. He knew Sam didn’t mean to be insensitive, but it still stung a bit.

“I know. Hey, I’m sorry Cas. He can be very painful to deal with. I’m just glad that you guys were able to talk about it—that _you_ were able to get Dean to talk about it. That’s huge!”

Castiel nodded and accepted Sam’s apology. After a deep breath, Castiel began to relay what Dean had told him of about his ‘dreams’. When Castiel was done, Sam was left speechless.

“So, what do you think?” Castiel asked impatiently.

Sam shook his head then ran a hand through his shaggy hair as he contemplated what he’d just been told. “Cas, man... I dunno. It sorta sounds more like a nightmare than a premonition. If it were a premonition, wouldn’t it be more accurate or something? ‘Cause first off, you my friend, don’t have black eyes and you’d never hurt Dean, let alone torture him.”

Castiel sighed, his shoulders slumped and he felt like an idiot. _Maybe Sam’s right. I’m just over reacting,_ he thought to himself.

“Hey, don’t beat yourself up for caring about my brother’s well-being! I’d rather have you worry about him then not give a rats ass. Maybe he’s just going through some stuff in his head over the fact that his natural magickal abilities have increased. I’ll talk to him tonight, okay?”

“Yeah, okay,” Castiel said, his voice hoarse with emotion, and rose to his feet. Sam clapped him on the shoulder.

“It’ll be fine. Don’t worry.”

“Thank you Sam, for your time.”

“Any time, Cas.”

With that, Castiel said goodbye to Missouri when he exited the office and headed back to his car. He sat in the driver’s seat and stared straight ahead at nothing. Castiel couldn’t help but wonder, although worry would be a much more accurate description, about if _he_ was the root of all Dean’s nightmares and issues. Maybe Dean began to fear being in a long term relationship with him and that fear mixed with his new and heightened magickal abilities turned into what Dean suffered from now. Maybe Dean was just too nice to tell Castiel that he was cause of his nightmares, that Castiel suffocated him, that Castiel was slowly killing him.

Castiel’s chest felt like it was being squeezed and the air punched from his lungs. He shuddered in a few ragged breaths. As much as it pained him, Castiel knew that he had to have this conversation with Dean. He had to make Dean tell him what he already knew was the probable truth. And when Dean finally confessed that this _was_ the reason behind Dean’s nightmares, then Castiel would just have to accept it and free Dean from him. He would leave Dean. Castiel needed Dean to be happy and healthy, and Castiel can’t stay if he was the one that slowly destroyed Dean.

Castiel pulled his eyes from the same spot he’d been staring at on the brick wall before him and forced himself to start the car and head over to Dean’s garage. He had to be a man about this and talk to Dean.


	7. Chapter 7

“Stupid friggin’ foreign cars,” Dean grumbled under his breath as he fought with a bolt that had been put in a spot where he wondered how anyone ever got there in the first place. Suddenly he felt it spin and with that he cried out in joy. “Ah-ha! Take that, you son-of-a-bitch!” It was a small victory, but he’d take it. His morning had been shit and he was tired. To top it off, he felt guilty for—well, everything: the way he kept things from Cas, stressed him out, and probably scared the hell out of him with his stupid dreams. A new fear had begun to creep into the back of Dean’s mind, a fear that Castiel will have had enough of him and his ‘issues’ and up and leave him, despite what Castiel may say. Dean saw it in Castiel’s eyes. He was tired, too—and afraid.

All the while Dean worked under the worn down car, he was trapped with his thoughts, and foughtand fought with a bolt. But now that the bolt was free, Dean almost wished that it was still stuck. He needed the distraction, albeit it was a supremely irritating distraction, but a distraction none-the-less. That’s when he heard the man-door to the garage slam closed, which caused him to jump and bump his head on the bracing underbracing under the car. _I really need to fix that,_ he thought to himself as he rubbed his forehead to alleviate some of the pain. He pushed himself out from under the car, the creeper he lay on easily and quickly rolled out and came to a stop before a pair of men’s boots. Dean immediately recognized those boots. They belonged to Castiel. Even though he knew who it was, he slowly looked up to confirm.

“Hey Cas, what’cha doin’ here?” Dean asked, genuinely curious. Castiel had been to the shop many times over, but usually never during the day and if he did, he’s brought Dean lunch and coffee from the Café. Dean saw that Castiel didn’t carry any food and had to wonder why.

“I wanted to talk to you and couldn’t wait until you came home.” Castiel looked around the garage then back down at Dean who now sat upright. “I assume we’re alone?”

Dean’s heart began to pound in his chest. _Holy fuck... this can’t be happening... He’s really going to do this? Oh God, please don’t do this..._ The possibility that Castiel wanted to break it off just became all too real.

“Uh, yeah, it’s just us.” It took everything in Dean just to get up and stand. His pulse raced and his guts were twisted.

“Good,” Castiel said. Dean noted his voice was deeper than usual, and in his well known ‘serious tone’.

“Look, Cas... I just want to apologize for waking you up this morning. It’s just... I... if I could stop it, I would.” Dean blurted out. He was too afraid to hear what Cas had to say.

“Dean, it’s fine. But that _is_ sort of why I wanted to talk to you.”

“I know what you’re going to say, but can’t we just try and get through this. I’ll sleep in the spare room so I don’t wake you—and we can have kinky conjugal visits—” Dean began, only to be cut off.

“Dean... _Dean_! Stop it! Well, I can tell you this, with much accuracy: you are _not_ psychic,” Castiel deadpanned. Dean furrowed his brow and stared at Castiel, in silent question.

“If I’ve gathered correctly from your floundering, I am _not_ breaking up with you.” Castiel smiled softly at Dean, but soon it faded to a look of distress. “I’m so sorry if I have led you to believe this. I don’t understand—” Now it was Dean’s turn to cut off Castiel.

“No, no... it’s not you, Cas. It’s all me; me and my stupid brain. Never mind,” Dean said dismissively. In a quick sweeping motion he leaned in and engulfed Castiel into an embrace and gave him a gentle kiss on the forehead.

“Well, I’m glad that’s cleared up; however, I still wish to talk to you about something.”

Dean released his embrace on Castiel, but left one arm draped over his shoulder. “Okay, hit me with it,” he said and aimed to be as nonchalant as possible. He just hoped that Castiel couldn’t see past it and glimpse the discomfort that lingered within. In Dean’s mind, talking was never good.

“I was talking with Sam this morning and—”

“You what?!” Dean took his arm off of Castiel’s shoulder and took a step back.

“I just wanted to see if your brother may have any ideas on how to help us—”

“What the fuck, Cas? I thought you said, _we were good_?!” Dean retorted mockingly. “Now you tell me you went to Sam to talk about our relationship?”

“No, not about our relationship necessarily, even though he does care about us and asked if we were okay. I told him we were.”

“Then what, Cas?”

“I asked him if you had talked to him about your magick abilities, or if he had noticed that you had become... stronger.” Dean could see that Castiel didn’t mean to pause, but he knew that Castiel wanted to find a word that Dean wouldn’t find too offensive, which offendedwhich offended him anyhow.

Dean scoffed. “So did boy wonder have any brilliant answers for you that I myself couldn’t have answered for you?”

“Dean, don’t be that way,” Castiel’s features softened as he pleaded with Dean to try and understand that he onlyhe only tried to help. Even though the rational side of Dean realized that, he was still irritated by it. Be it from too many sleepless nights or the fact that Dean felt like Cas had intruded into his personal affairs, either way, he couldn’t help but feel his anger brew. “Sam did have a good point, Dean. He said that if it were a premonition, wouldn’t it be more accurate? I don’t have black eyes, nor do I have any urge to torture you—even though you do aggravate me at times.”

“Very funny,” Dean replied flatly. Castiel just gave him a sheepish grin.

“Seriously though, maybe he has a point...”

“Why does it sound like there’s a ‘but’ in there?”

“I hate to admit it... _but_...” Castiel paused as Dean gave him an incredulous look. “Maybe I’m the one behind it all—your nightmares.” The look on Castiel’s face crushed Dean. How could he possibly think that?!

“Cas, why would you even say that?”

Castiel looked down at the floor, then at various objects around the garage, but never laid his eyes back on Dean when he added quietly, “Maybe being with me is more than you really want. I’m smothering you. And I’m being greedy by forcing you to stay with me. Even though you _say_ you want to be with me, I know I’m the root of your nightmares. Look at what you dreamed, Dean! That’s not healthy!”

“No... _No_! That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard!” Dean can’t believe how the conversation had turned, and it twistedit twisted his stomach and nauseated him. ‘ _He does want to break it off!’_ Dean’s heartbeat pounded in his ears.

“It’s not stupid,” Castiel answered simply.

“You know what, Cas? I think you need to just calm the fuck down. You’re being ridiculous and irrational.”

“What, and you’re the poster boy for being cool, calm and collected?” Castiel spat back. His face flushed in his sudden anger. Just as Dean went to retort something, probably nothing productive or positive, Castiel raised his hand at him to make him pause. “I’m going to stop before _I_ say anything else that I really don’t mean. I will see you later, Dean.” And with that, Castiel turned on his heels and began to walk to the door. Dean was stunned. For a moment he didn’t know what to do, but eventually he managed to get his feet to work and a few large strides later he caught up to Castiel before he got to the door.

He reached out and grasped onto Castiel’s shoulder and forced him to stop. “Hey, man, come on.” Castiel paused and turned to look over his shoulder. The moment Castiel’s steely sapphire eyes met his he let his hand fall back to his side. Castiel was right pissed at Dean and he knew better than to continue this conversation now. Castiel needed to calm down. But then again, so did Dean. He hated to admit it, but maybe Castiel was right to call a ‘time out’.

Dean lifted his hands in a non-verbal truce. “Fine, have it your way.”

Castiel didn’t say another word before he left Dean where he stood alone in the garage. He was left stupefied at the whole encounter.

Once the shock of it started to settle, it was all too soon replaced by his frustrationhis frustration as it grew. Dean grabbed the nearest object to him, which happened to be a wrench that sat on top of a red tool box. Without much thought, he whipped it angrily across the cavernous room. A loud thud echoed as it hit with much force against the drywall followed by the metallic sound of the wrench ricocheting on the cement floor. A deep growl of a yell escaped Dean’s throat and he threw a few more innocent wrenches against the wall to add to the already large hole from his first assault. Not that ruining his shop helped him much in the long run, it did help him to relieve some of his stress. A long exasperated sigh pushed past his lips and he ran his hand back and forth through his short tousled hair, which surely made it even more dishevelled than before.

Dean looked at the clock. It was a five after eleven in the morning. “Great!” he uttered sarcastically. His next appointment, an easy oil change and would arrivewould arrive in less than a half an hour. That’s when he decided he had to keep on with his day, and he’d have to do it _without_ thinking about Castiel. Because if he allowed himself to think of him, he knew he’d fuck up _whatever_ he workedhe worked on. With silent acknowledgement of that, he walked over to an old boom box and pushed play on the tape that was already in there. When _Hells Bells_ started to play he began to walk around the shop and pick up the wrenches and tossed them onto a nearby bench. Once he finished the clean up after his tantrum, he made his way back to the piece of shit foreign car he had been working on when Cas had walked in.

 

The rest of Dean’s day didn’t go over well. He was on edge, and who was he kidding, there was no way he couldn’t not think about Castiel. So by the end of the day Dean had managed to whack his thumb twice, scratch up his elbow on a protruding piece of metal, scalded his mouth with hot coffee that he made at the shop because he was too afraid to go over to Heavenly Coffee, and had to clean up an oil spill because he had forgotten to put the plug back in before he filled it again. All in all, Dean hadDean had a supremely shitty day. He hadn’t thought that it could get worse. He never should have thought that.

It was six pm and he knew Castiel would have been home from the coffee shop about an hour ago. He wasn’t entirely sure he was ready to talk to Cas, but he at least wanted to see him. Dean had wanted to call him multiple times throughout the day, but couldn’t help but fear that if he did, it would come across as needy and selfish. He vowed he’d just wait to fix things with Cas when he got home from work.

When Dean went to push the door open, he soon enough discovered that it was still locked. _Maybe he’s in the shower_ , he thought to himself. So he fumbled with his keys and eventually pushed the navy painted door open. It was quiet.

“Hey, Cas?” he called out. When there was no response he followed it with, “Honey, I’m hoooome!” he said in a sing-songy manner. Still nothing. He hung his jacket on the entrance hook and walked in further. “Cas?” he said for the last time. After he walked through the living room to the kitchen, then back to the living room to head upstairs and check the bathroom and bedroom, he finally accepted that Castiel wasn’t home.

As he sat on the edge of the bed, Dean huffed a sigh and rested his elbows on his knees. After a quick inner debate, Dean figured that maybe Cas would be home any minute since he knew that Dean wouldn’t be home until then anyhow. That’s when Dean rose from the bed and began to strip out of his clothes and dropped them to the floor. He would have normally left them there, but he knew it would have irritated Castiel, so he picked them up and put them in the hamper. Dean then padded his way naked to the ensuite bathroom to shower.

Dean had hoped that Castiel would surprise him while in the shower, but that never happened. In fact, he was even more upset that he discovered that Castiel was still not home by the time he barely dried himself off and dressed in his favourite grey sweatpants and Pink Floyd t-shirt. By this time, his anger had waned. He was now filled with worry. It wasn’t like Cas to not come home or to not call Dean. Something _had_ to be wrong.

Trying not to panic, Dean searched the pantry for any kind of soup while he called Gabriel to nonchalantly ask if he’d seen Castiel, or if he was there with him.

“Yo, Bro, what’s up?” Gabriel’s voice answered.

“Hey Gabe... not a whole heckuva lot. I was just uh, wondering...” he said while reaching past a bunch of vegetable cans and pasta boxes to grab a can of tomato soup, “is Cas there by any chance?”

“No. I actually haven’t seen him since one this afternoon. He said he needed a day off. I think he really wanted to nap, but that’s just me,” Gabriel quipped, then snorted at his own joke.

“Yeah, well, I did keep him up last night then woke him too early this morning.”

“Yeah, I bet you did! You sly dog!”

“Gabe, come on man. Do you not have any tact at _all_?” Dean huffed.

“Well, you’re the one telling me dirty secrets about _my_ brother, after all. Do I want to hear about that? Hells to the no!”

Dean scoffed. “I wasn’t talking about that, you jack ass.”

“Chill! Yeah, I know... I just like to hear you get your panties in a twist.”

“So is that a no... Cas isn’t with you?”

“Nope. Why? Is anything wrong?” Gabriel asked as his voice took a serious tone now. Dean could hear him flip gears from jokester to protective big brother and he couldn’t help but smile.

“It’s fine. He’s just running behind from running errands or something. I’ll call him. I just thought maybe he was with you.”

“Alright—but if there’s something wrong, you _will_ tell me right?!”

“Scouts honour.”

“Fine. I’ll accept that, but you do know that you were never a boy scout, so it doesn’t have much merit.”

“Ha—Ha. Bye Gabe.”

“Later gator.”

Dean put his cell phone down on the counter to open the can and then dump the gelatinous form into a pot. Before he called Castiel, he proceeded to prepare the soup. Once thoroughly stirred with water, he put a lid on it and set it at minimum and walked away with his phone in hand. Dean sat down at the island and stared Castiel’s name on his phone’s screen as he worked up the courage to call. After a long moment, he finally tapped ‘call’. The phone began to ring and Dean’s heart pounded in his chest. At first he worried about what Cas would say to him, but as it ran three, four, five, six times then went to voicemail, Dean’s anxiety morphed into a more ominous unease. Dean didn’t bother to leave a voicemail. He’d wait a bit longer.

After he called Charlie, Dean didn’t feel any better. She hadn’t seen him since work and he wasn’t with her. He pulled up Castiel’s number and called him again. Straight to voice mail this time.

“You stubborn son-of-a-bitch! Answer your goddamned phone!” he yelled at his phone and shook it in his hand. Dean jumped as his phone unexpectedly went off. At first he thought, _Cas_! But when he looked at the screen he saw it was Sam.

Dean took a deep breath and answered his phone. “Hey...” he said as casually as he could.

“So... uh... what cha up to? Got a minute to chat?” Sam asked and sounded more like an anxious teenage girl that talked to a crush, rather than to him. Dean snorted.

“Uh, yeah, I guess. Just watching my soup turn cold is all.”

There’s an unusually long pause before Sam finally asked sarcastically, “why aren’t you _eating_ your soup?”

“Because I’m being a social butterfly and chatting on my phone to you! Smart ass.” Sam scoffed which made Dean laugh. “What’s up, buttercup?”

“Well, I was thinking...”

“Oh, well this can’t be good.”

“Shut up, Dean.”

“I’m just saying.”

Sam ignored him and continued. “I was thinking about the other day when you called me and was asked if I had felt any different after doing the spell work last year—”

“Stop right there, Sam. I know that Castiel had spoken to you today. Good try though.”

“Come on Dean, he’s just worried about you. He cares. _I_ care.”

“Yeah, whatever... if he cares so much why isn’t he answering his phone,” Dean muttered.

“What? You can’t get a hold of him? He’s not with you?”

Dean sighed. “No Sherlock, he’s not at home. We had a... fight...” Dean paused because he wasn’t entirely sure if it was truly an argument, or rather a break up, but at the moment he could only manage in his brain that it was a fight. “I was, well, being an ass as usual and he pretty much excused himself from the situation, and I hadn’t seen or heard from him since.”

Silence on the other end.

“Gee thanks Sam for the words of encouragement!” Dean retorted.

“Well, I don’t know what to say. You really must have pissed him off. Give him time. I’m sure he’ll be home before bed.” When Dean kept quiet this time, Sam added, “Seriously Dean. He will be home. He loves you. He wouldn’t run off, that’s not his style. However, you two are the most stubborn men I have ever known, so I’m not surprised he’s doing this to you.”

“Yeah, well, whatever—takes one to know one.”

“Real mature Dean.”

“Hey, Dean?” Sam said finally.

“Yeah?”

“Speaking of your magickal ability though... have you experienced anything odd lately?”

Dean is quiet for a moment and chose his words carefully. “Maybe. Have you?” he asked and turned it onto Sam.

“Well, no. But...”

Dean sighed. “To be honest, yes, I have. It had been just more of a feeling, you know, deep within my bones. It’s hard to explain. But last night... last night I burnt out a light bulb because I couldn’t keep my feeling in check.”

“Wow.”

“Yeah.”

“That’s actually really impressive, Dean. Maybe I can find something out in one of Dad’s old witchcraft books, or maybe in his grimoire!” Sam said excitedly. Dean grinned as he could imagine the look of delight on Sam’s face to have magickal research to do.

“Have at ‘er, read and research your heart out.”

“I will, and the moment I find anything out that may be relevant or remotely interesting I’ll let you know.”

“Okay, Sam. You do that.” Dean paused then added, “I do appreciate it.”

“Yeah, sure, any time. You know I’m here for you.”

“I know. Thanks, Sam. Oh, and if you do happen to hear from Cas... please tell him that I’m worried and to come home, okay?”

“I will.”

“Night, Sam.”

“Night, Dean.”

Dean pushed his now bone cold soup away from him and got up only to plop himself in front of the TV in hopes that it would numb his brain enough to not worry too much about Castiel. He looked at his phone that rested on the arm of the couch, then to the TV. He did this at least a half a dozen times before he scooped up his phone and fired off a text to Cas.

 

**I’m sorry for being an ass. Please come home.**

 

He set the phone on the side table so it was out of view, but before he left the phone alone, he made sure the volume was up; he didn’t want to miss any kind of response from Castiel.

It didn’t take long before he felt the weight of sleep on his eyelids as they drooped. He tried to watch some animal show about hyenas, but the narrator’s voice had pretty much lulled him to sleep. It had been a long and stressful day and he felt the effects of it now. By this point, he couldn’t fight it even if he wanted to and he slid down on the couch, grabbed the blanket from the back of it to cover himself and he let himself doze off.

 

As dreams do—well, Dean’s pretty sure it’s a dream—it just seemed to suddenly, _be_. He felt like himself, yet without a body, and he’s unsure of the surroundings. It’s a coffee shop, but it’s not Heavenly Coffee. The café was empty, except for two men that sat at a table together. Omnisciently, he looked down at them and a rage grew within Dean as he realized that it was Castiel and Crowley that talked amicably. _'How can you be talking with Crowley?! He fucking killed you!'_ He yelled out, but to no avail—he had no voice. They continued to talk, none the wiser to Dean’s presence.

Crowley patted his left chest only to reach inside his suit jacket to pull out a small glass jar from the pocket. A brilliant blue-white light swirled inside the container. Dean thought to himself how beautiful it was. It’s only when Castiel addressed Crowley that Dean made the connection to what it is that Crowley held—Castiel’s grace.

“I don’t make deals with demons, Crowley. I’m an angel,” Castiel said flatly. Because Dean knew Cas so well, he could see that Castiel was irritated by Crowley’s offer.

“Not at the moment you’re not, Angel Wings,” Crowley countered.

“What makes you even think that I would do that?” Castiel retorted. He then leaned in closer to Crowley and all but growled, “I’d let you kill me before I’d allow you near Dean!”

“That’s just it, though... If you don’t, then _Dean_ will be the one to die. Don’t get me wrong here, Angel Wings, I don’t want you to get your wings back ‘cause I know you’ll smite me the moment you can. But I figure, why can’t we be friends again? I’ll scratch your bits and you can scratch mine. It’s all about synergy, no?”

“What makes you think that I won’t just take my grace right now?”

Crowley’s brows rise for a moment in comical surprise and then a loud bout of laughter fills the space. “Don’t let anyone tell you that you’re not funny Castiel. You are hilarious!” Castiel furrowed his brow and glowered at Crowley. After a long moment, a sigh escaped Crowley’s lips and he turned serious again. “Look, I will be honest with you. Your brother Luci found me... or I should say did a summoning spell.” Crowley leaned in towards Castiel as if what he had to say next was super secretive, and the odd sensation that Dean’s hair rose on the back of his neck was evoked even though he didn’t have a neck or hair to rise. “He sure is pissed that he’s a human isn’t he? Lucifer... Luke... _whatever_ , was hoping to appeal to my darker side... but that’s a conversation for a different day, I don’t think you want to hear about my sexual deviancy or tendencies—”

“Crowley! Just get on with it!” Castiel growled and tried to get him back on track.

“Alright, alright... don’t get your knickers in a twist. You know, I can’t believe this, but I’ve actually missed you, and how tightly wound up you are. I’m surprised Dean hasn’t relaxed you any. Mustn’t be very good at it then.”

“Crowley...” Castiel warned. Despite Crowley’s crass words and insults toward him, as he watched Castiel’s reaction, it turned Dean on, even though he was incorporeal. Dean momentarily scolded himself that he let himself get distracted, and then Crowley started to talk again.

“Anyway... Luci will, at _any_ cost, find Dean. He will drain him, the oh so righteous man that he is, of the precious blood that flows through his veins and use it to execute an ancient Enochian spell to get his wings back so that he can reign in Hell once again and jostle a few heavenly beings up top.

Castiel was quiet. Dean knew that Cas had absorbed and worked out what he’d just been told. Finally he replied with, “How do I know what you’re telling me is the truth? Why should I believe you?”

“I have never lied to you before, Angel Wings, why would I start now? I hate to admit it, but I _am_ rather fond of your sourpuss face and I’d hate to see you fade away, because that’s what will happen to you once your precious Dean is gone from this world. Am I not right?” Crowley lifted an eyebrow to enhance his question, as if to drive the point home.

Castiel was quiet again as he contemplated what Crowley had told him. Dean could see that Castiel didn’t want to answer, for as far as Castiel knew, Crowley _had_ always been truthful. That small, yet huge fact, pissed Dean off tremendously. And to make things worse for him, whatever state that Dean was currently in, he could somehow see through Crowley’s facade. The facade wasn’t the fact that Crowley actually lied this time, Crowley really did think fondly of Castiel and what he said was honest, but he didn’t tell Castiel everything. Purposefully Crowley didn’t mention the very large factor of why he really wanted Castiel to have his wings back. Castiel was a vital part as well. Lucifer needed Castiel’s angelic blood, as well as from the one an angel loved for the spell. Just like a knowing, Dean understood that this tidbit—his and Cas’ love was rare in and of itself—was critical to Lucifer’s spell and without the sacrifice of their lives, he would not be able to complete the Rite.

Castiel was about to say something, but seemed he couldn’t find it in himself to voice it out loud and he clamped his mouth shut, only to tilt his head and scowl at Crowley instead. Dean could honestly not figure out what Castiel thought or what he wanted to say, but Dean feared the worst—that the demon before his mate had swayed him into believing that Crowley was benevolent.

Dean screamed out, even though he knew that it would do no good. “Cas! NO!! Don’t even! Don’t you dare trust him!” When he received no reaction, as he knew he would, he thought to himself: ‘ _This is just a d— No, it’s_ not _a dream. This is a true premonition!’_ This was nothing like the dreams he had had, which may have had some truth to it, but they were altered with his fears and turned into nightmares. The most frightening realization Dean had was that this had actually happened or would happen very soon! With this awareness, panic filled Dean and it choked the air from him. He imagined himself hitting the table with his fist or tossing a chair at Crowley’s head—anything to stop Cas from saying something stupid like Dean feared he might do. That was when his body felt like it was on fire and distant sounds of things as they shattered and were knocked about filled his ears. Suddenly, like being pulled from one space to another, Dean was fully aware that he is back in his body, on the couch where he had fallen asleep. Groggily he blinked to clear his vision to look at the time. 4:19am.

Dean pulled his gaze from the clock and looked around the living room, originally to see if Castiel was magically there with him, but only discovered a mess of broken decorative plates, picture frames, and lamp bases that had been nearest to him where he lay on the couch. His heart fluttered in his chest. _Oh my God, what have I done?! What’s happening to me!?_

What Dean could discern was that while upset in his otherworldly state, he had affected his real surroundings, and it frightened him to the nth degree. All he wanted was for Cas to be beside him, to calm him and tell him that everything would be all right. But Castiel was still not home and Dean was sure that Castiel wasn’t just so pissed off at him that he decided to teach Dean a lesson and not come home. Dean was positive, with _all_ of his being that Castiel was in grave danger.


	8. Chapter 8

Castiel woke up gradually, of his own accord. The first thing he noticed was that the ache at the back of his head throbbed with the beat of his heart. The room smelled musty and he could hear the muffled sound of a television through the poorly soundproofed wall. He winced slightly as he lifted his head to take in his surroundings. His vision was still somewhat blurry and it took a few rapid blinks to clear enough for Castiel to make out that he was in a dingy motel room. The walls were covered in grotesque yellowed brown and cream flower wallpaper that had to have been pasted on the walls in the early 80’s. The old TV was massive in comparison to the flat screens of today. Castiel hadn’t seen a tube television set since he was a teenager. There wasn’t much else in the room besides the just as ancient dresser that the TV sat on, night stands and a small writing desk where Castiel’s brother, Lucifer, sat with his legs crossed and a smug grin of triumph on his face. On the desk behind him sat an altar where various Enochian ingredients for powerful spell-work were placed. There were bottles of ashes and dirt, an ancient looking clay bowl with Enochian written around it, five white candles, a small silver dagger and a single black feather that was most likely from a raven.

That’s when it all flooded back to him. After being as polite as possible, Castiel had turned down Crowley’s offer to take his grace back and make a truce with the demon so that Castiel ultimately could protect Dean and himself from Lucifer. Castiel couldn’t put a finger on it at the time, but he didn’t fully trust what Crowley had told him, even though he _did_ believe what Crowley had told him was the truth. He had had a strong feeling Crowley hid something from him, and it currently seemed pretty clear _what_ it was that he had hidden—Lucifer. Castiel was sure Crowley had left him alone at the coffee shop to mull over what he had offered in hopes that Castiel would change his mind, but Castiel had firmly decided against it. There was no way he would ever agree because Dean would see it as betrayal since it would appear that Castiel had made a truce with the demon that had killed him. When Castiel figured it was time to head home to Dean and tell him what had just happened with Crowley, Castiel was hit hard at the back of his head while he fiddled with the keys to his car and was knocked out cold. He didn’t hear his attacker nor did he know what happened—or what was about to happen.

Castiel slid upright in stages, because when he moved the painful throb in his skull intensified. Once up, he leaned back against the headboard. He locked his icy stare on his brother and addressed him. “What are you doing, Lucifer? You know, deep down, that this is not the way to get your grace back. If Father had wanted you to be an angel again, you would be. You haven’t fully atoned for your sins, don’t you see?”

“That is a load of bullshit and you know it, Castiel. Father is long gone and he doesn’t give a fuck about any of us, let alone his most precious creation—his hairless apes. It’s beyond sad how you’ve fallen for one of them. As if Dean is a soul mate... news flash, you don’t have a fucking soul, Castiel!”

“You shouldn’t speak of them like that, Lucifer,” Castiel managed to utter. He was taken aback by his brother’s comment about the lack of a soul. He had pondered this for many hours after he had remembered that he was a fallen angel and forced into reincarnation for centuries. Castiel couldn’t— _didn’t_ —want to believe that. If that had been true, how could he be reincarnated? If he didn’t possess a soul exactly like Dean did, he sure as hell had something very akin to it. Dean’s body, Castiel’s body—they were only vessels really. What made the body move, thoughts voiced and idiosyncrasies executed, _that_ was what made the ‘heart’ of the person. So in Castiel’s mind, he _did_ have a soul of some kind. “You’re wrong,” Castiel finally said but didn’t bother to share why he believed that. He knew that Lucifer wouldn’t listen to him anyhow.

“Well, then you’re a fool, Castiel. And I’m impatient. I’m tired of waiting.”

“I don’t see how kidnapping me is going to help you. You don’t need me. I’m just a piece of shit human—remember?” Castiel retorted snootily.

“That’s where you’re wrong, brother. You are a key part of this, on _many_ different levels. See, I know that Dean _will_ look for you and his arrival here will be like receiving a delivery without having to ask for it! Then I’ll have all the ingredients I need where I need them.” Castiel tilted his head and looked at Lucifer as if he silently questioned him. “What? Crowley didn’t tell you that your blood was needed also? Why do you think he wanted you to have your grace back?” he asked playfully. Castiel knew he did that just to irritate him further.

Castiel glared at Lucifer. “No,” he managed to say through a clenched jaw. Castiel kicked himself for having given Crowley even an ounce of trust. Although, Castiel was right, Crowley didn’t necessarily lie to him, the bastard just didn’t give him the whole truth. Crowley played to Castiel’s sentiments and he hated that he had nearly caved. ‘ _Maybe that was the whole plan to begin with? Soften me up and then let Lucifer beat me over the head like a Neanderthal_ ,’ Castiel thought bitterly to himself.

“Where’s Crowley now?” Castiel managed to ask before his anger overtook his rational thoughts.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?”

“Fuck you, Lucifer!”

“Feisty! Dean sure has changed you, hasn’t he? I’m not so sure it’s for the better though. But in my case, he has. Because of you two and your sickening _love_ for each other,” Lucifer emphasised the word love which was coated in disgust, “I’ll finally get back what was taken from me. So I thank you in advance for your sacrifice.”

“What do you mean by sacrifice?” Castiel stiffened. The hairs on the back of his neck rose as his pulse began to beat rapidly.

“It’s not only a bit of your blood I need. I require _all_ of your blood. Both of your lives shall be sacrificed to fulfill the Rite. It’s all good, though. You’ll be reincarnated and you’ll just have to wait for another Dean to come along so that you may get your wings back,” he informed Castiel nonchalantly.

“No, Lucifer, I won’t be reincarnated. I gave my eternal life to be with Dean.” As Castiel explained it, even he could hear the pride behind the fact that he chose to be with Dean, no matter what. He could see the irritation darken Lucifer’s features and Castiel knew that his older brother could not even fathom why he would do such a thing. His reaction gave Castiel an odd sense of power over Lucifer and he couldn’t help but smirk somewhat.

“Well, then you are stupider than I thought.”

After a long moment of silence, Castiel blurted out, “Dean will never say yes and allow you to use his blood.”

“Never say never. Dean’s the type of guy who would sacrifice himself for the one’s he loves in a heartbeat—just like you, sweet Cassie—so it doesn’t matter if he _wants_ to say yes. He’ll do it thinking that he’ll be saving you.”

Lucifer’s words hit Castiel hard and his fear rose to the nth degree, not for his own life, but for Dean’s. His face flushed as his heart raced and sweat started to bead on his brow. Before any rational thought could stop him, Castiel cried out for help. Lucifer shook his head at him and rose from the desk chair and walked over to him. Castiel quieted down.

“Really, Castiel? Crying out for help? Being queer on Earth for so many years has made you weak! No one will hear you. There’s no one here. I paid the scumbag of a hotel manager off to fuck off for a few days and I’ve dispatched the other guest who was at this fine establishment. It’s just us now. It’s a lovely place in the middle of butt-fuck nowhere, so scream all you want. It’ll do you no good. It’ll just piss me off more. So stay the fuck quiet, or I’ll make you. Capisce?”

Castiel didn’t know specifically what Lucifer said to him that made him snap—maybe it was the queer comment, maybe it was just all of it—but he leapt off the bed, charged at Lucifer and knocked him hard to the ground. Despite the pain in his head, which fueled his anger in a way, Castiel settled himself on top of Lucifer. With Castiel’s legs on either side of his brother’s torso, he began to beat down on him. Most of Castiel’s swings connected with Lucifer’s forearms when he had raised his arms to protect his face, but Castiel did manage to have a few solid punches connect with Lucifer’s jaw.

Unexpectedly, Lucifer managed to grab a hold of Castiel’s arms and with all his might he forced Castiel off of him. Castiel was slammed into the nearby dresser which caused the contents to wobble, as did his equilibrium, when his head connected with a drawer pull. Lucifer took advantage of Castiel’s weakness and hovered over him and with a wicked right hook connected painfully with his temple and Castiel was knocked out cold.

 

*   *   *   *   *

 

It was just after 2am when Dean woke with a scream, sweat beaded on his brow. As he sat up on the couch, he instinctively reached out for Cas and hoped that his mate was home. However, Dean found himself alone and the room felt cold and barren. His heart sank. After a quick estimate, Dean realized that it had been fifteen hours since he last saw and heard from Castiel. Panic flooded every part of Dean as the premonition settled further into his brain. He had to find Castiel and he had to find him _now_!

Dean threw the blanket off and scrambled to his feet. Unsure of what to do, he paced and tried to think of how he could find Castiel. When it hit him, Dean came to a sudden halt.

“Sam! I gotta call Sam...” he mumbled then ran for his phone that was still on the side table beside the couch. He didn’t care that it was two in the morning—he had to do something! The last time he had to find Castiel, he and Sam had done a locater spell. It had worked the last time, so Dean didn’t see why it wouldn’t work this time around. The unfortunate part was that Dean didn’t have the supplies for it and he didn’t feel comfortable doing the spell by himself. It wasn’t lack of faith in his abilities to cast, it was his fear holding him back. Dean was afraid if he cast the spell alone, he would amp up his magickal abilities further and that thought terrified him. In his mind, if Sam were there to cast along with him, then he wouldn’t tempt the fates anymore than what had already happened to him. He didn’t need anything else to be ‘stirred’ within him. He was juiced up enough.

Dean’s knee bounced nervously as he listened to the phone ring: One ring, two rings, three rings, four rings...

“What the hell, Dean!” Sam grumbled, his voice hoarse and thick with sleep.

“I need you to come here and help me do a spell!” Dean blurted out.

“What?! Why?”

“Cas is still not home. I just had a full-on premonition and I need to find him—now!”

“Sam! I need your help, man. We need to do a locator spell, like last time.”

Dean could hear Jessica’s muffled voice in the background as Sam covered up the mouthpiece on the phone while he probably explained to his wife how his older brother has finally lost his ever lovin’ mind. Dean waited impatiently for Sam to come back on the line.

“Fine... Give me at least forty minutes to get there. ‘Kay?”

“Great. See you in thirty, then.”

“Dean...”

“Fine, whatever, just hurry! It’s not good Sam. They’re going to kill him! I can’t lose him again—I won’t!”

Sam was silent for a moment. Dean knew that he wanted to ask questions but Sam didn’t since he knew that he’d eventually get the full story when he got to Dean’s place.

“I’ll be there as soon as humanly possible.”

“Thanks.”

“See ya, Dean.” The phone line went quiet after Sam hung up. Dean tapped the end call button and put the phone down. Still seated on the couch, Dean felt numb and loathed feeling out of control. All he could do was wait until Sam arrived with the supplies.

 

Thirty-three minutes later the sound of Sam’s car door as it slammed shut woke Dean from his nerve-wracked reverie and constant loop of worried thoughts. Dean stood up so fast, you would’ve thought that someone had shocked him with a hundred volts, and raced to the door. When Dean opened the front door, he found Sam with his hand raised to ring the doorbell and a look of surprise on his face at his brother’s quick action.

“Get in here. I’ve got us set up as much as I could.” Dean opted to say instead of a traditional hello. Sam nodded and followed his brother into the house and closed the door behind him.

“Dean, what’s going on?” Sam begged for an answer, but Dean was too preoccupied with worry to want to explain. Dean ignored his brother and grabbed the bag out of Sam’s hand and started to place a blue candle in the direction of north, east, south and west on the living room floor with enough room for him to sit in the centre, just like last time. Dean grabbed the bottle of water he had set out on the pushed aside coffee table and filled the goblet three-quarters full and placed it off to the side of one of the candles. He then retrieved a small glass jar that contained jasmine and sprinkled it around the candles.

“Dean! STOP! Tell me what’s going on. First off, you clearly could have done this spell by yourself and found the ingredients it needs easily. Secondly, who is trying to kill Cas and why? How’d you come to that conclusion? He _was_ pretty ma—” Dean cut him off before he could even finish his sentence.

“Don’t even say ‘ _he was pretty mad at me’,_ Sam. Come on, don’t be an ass! This is beyond a lover’s quarrel. I had a full-on premonition. I saw Castiel chatting with Crowley and I _know_ Luke is going to kill Castiel to get his fucking wings back! I need to find him, Sam.” Dean paused and all of his anger fell away when he sighed and felt broken. “I’m afraid that I’m too late—what if I’m already too late!”

“Hang on, Dean. When I chatted with Castiel, it sure sounded like your ‘premonitions’ were only nightmares.”

“Sam, this wasn’t a nightmare. It was clear, precise and it had no nightmare elements to it other than what was being planned for Cas. Believe me, I don’t want this to be true. I don’t want to be able to have freaking premonitions... but here we are. I swear to you on our mother’s grave, I’ve had a premonition!”

Sam was quiet for a long moment before he finally asked, “Okay, so that seems frighteningly possible. If that is the case, I’m not saying I don’t believe you!” he quickly said and gave Dean his very best bitch-face, then continued his thought. “Why do you need me here? You could’ve easily cast this spell and found the ingredients for it.”

Dean lowered his head. He couldn’t look at Sam. “I’m afraid of what’ll happen to me if I cast and tap into my magickal essence. I wanted you here as a buffer, okay?” He slowly lifted his gaze to look at his brother. He shouldn’t have been afraid of being rejected by Sam, yet there he was, fearful that his younger brother would think ill of him. However, when his eyes met Sam’s sympathetic gaze, he knew it was all right between them.

Sam nodded solemnly and handed him a Zippo. Dean took the offered lighter, lit the candles then handed it back to Sam. The next thing Sam handed him was the same small pearl-handled dagger that Dean had used the last time. With the dagger in his hand, he stepped inside the circle of candles, sat down and positioned himself so that he faced West. Dean then twisted his body and looked up at Sam.

“Get in here.” Sam nodded and sat down beside him. Dean then had Sam grab the water-filled goblet and placed it in front of them. Dean took in a few deep breaths to relax his body and calm his mind. Dean exhaled and peered into the goblet and started the chant and Sam quickly chimed in: “With our blood I beseech thee, Briant, Goddess of water magicks, accept my bonded Vitae and accept the blood of my kin.” Dean grabbed the ceremonial dagger and pricked his left index finger. He squeezed the tip of his wounded finger and let the blood form a large droplet and waited for it to drip into the water. He then handed the blade over to Sam to repeat what he had done. Once Sam’s blood was in the mix, Dean spoke again, this time alone and said, “Let our blood and water show the location of whom I seek, Castiel Novak—show me where my bonded soul mate is.” Scrying in the water, he concentrated and waited for an answer to appear. The water in the goblet waved. Dean gave Sam a side glance to see if he saw what he did. Sam looked into the cup intently and figured that he saw the same thing. Suddenly a transparent image of Castiel was superimposed over Dean’s vision. Castiel lay bound on a bed with Crowley and Luke by his side. Castiel appeared to be asleep, although Dean deduced after he saw dried blood that had dripped from a cut above his brow that it was evidence enough of being knocked out. He was then shown the exterior of an old scuzzy motel. A gentle breeze brushed past Dean and Sam, and with it, the soft whispers of an answer: _Lynnwood Inn._ Dean’s eyes flew open. He looked over at Sam who looked back at him with a look of shock and slight horror—he had heard the whisper, too.

Dean quickly rose to his feet only to stand motionless for a moment as he took a mental note of how he felt, or more accurately, if he felt any different. He came to the conclusion that he felt the same and a sigh of relief escaped past his lips.

“Whoa! That was intense. Is that what you felt and stuff the last time?” Sam asked, still on the floor and looked up at Dean.

“Uh, yeah... pretty much.”

“So?”

“So what? I know where we need to go now.”

“No... well, yeah, but no, that’s not what I meant. Do you feel any different? You think you’re fine—you know, the same? I will say, I could _feel_ your power, Dean. It was—amazing!” Sam said and rose to his feet. Dean could feel his face flush and the tips of his ears pink at the admission. He wasn’t flattered by it. He was more embarrassed and didn’t really know how to take what his little brother conveyed to him.

“Sam—” Dean growled like a warning. He didn’t want to talk about it. Dean vision suddenly became dimmer as the outer edges of his vision darkened, like he was in a tunnel of light.

“You have to accept it. There’s nothing wrong with it. Just because you’re like, I dunno, the chosen one or whatever, you should be proud of it. Maybe Dad was just like you but he never got to his full potential because of what happened to Mom ‘n’ stuff. You know.”

“Sam, I said stop it! Don’t even bring Mom into this conversation!”

“Dean, come on, don’t be so stupid about this.”

“I said shut up! I don’t want to be like this!” Dean hollered and a burst of angry energy was released and directed at Sam. Dean watched as Sam flinched. He felt bad at first that he lost his temper on Sam when all Sam tried to do was set Dean at ease and make him feel better about himself. But even though he lost it on Sam, Dean didn’t understand at first why his brother would even flinch at that. He had been angrier at him when they were younger and Sam had never reacted that way. It wasn’t until his vision seemed to clear and the room illuminated once again and he could take in the whole surroundings. Lamps had fallen over and light bulbs had burst and left fine shattered glass on top of the side tables. Dean’s heart began to race and his pulse pounded in his ears. _Oh my God, what have I done?_ His body vibrated with fear. When he looked down at his shaking hands, Dean noticed a heat wave-like energy emanate from his chest and flutter outwards. Dean looked at Sam, his eyes revealed his pure horror. Sam only looked at him confused by his sudden terror. It was at that moment that Dean realized Sam couldn’t see what he did. Dean pulled his gaze from his brother and looked down to watch the waves of energy flutter further and further away from him and out into the room. When the waves made contact with furniture, it began to shake and vibrate until everything in the living room shuddered.

The increased sound of the furniture as it trembled around them had intensified Dean’s fear—he had no idea how to stop it.

“Stop... Stop... Stop... Stop...” Dean whispered repeatedly.

Out of the blue, strong hands squeezed his shoulders painfully and shook him. “DEAN!” Sam yelled in his face. That’s all it took. Everything in the room suddenly stopped moving. “Breathe, Dean,” Sam said soothingly. Dean hadn’t realized that he had held his breath. With that, he exhaled and took in a few deep breaths.

Dean looked around the room, and other than the lamps, nothing else was worse for wear. The sudden punch of guilt tightened his chest and he couldn’t breathe. _I could have destroyed our living room... What the fuck is wrong with me? Even if I find Cas and get him home, he won’t want me. I’m a fucking freak of nature. I’m fucking dangerous! This isn’t normal—_ I’m _not normal._ Dean vision blurred as his acidic thoughts started to consume him.

“Dean, come on man. Get it together. It’ll be okay. Dean?” Sam soothed and patted his left shoulder. Dean knew that Sam did his best to break him of his thoughts and to bring him back to the task at hand. Castiel was still missing, but now they knew where he was. Even if Castiel wouldn’t want Dean back after he learned how much of a freak he has become, Dean would save Cas no matter what it took. Dean wouldn’t allow himself to lose Castiel through death. He’d rather have Cas break his heart instead. Dean couldn’t live with the thought that Castiel wasn’t in this world with him.

“You’re right, Sam. I’m okay. I am.”

“Good. Now let’s go save Cas!”

“No, Sam. You’re gonna go home to your wife and son. I will not let you get hurt, or worse, on my watch!”

“Dean, you can’t do this on your own.”

“Well, I think I can—and I will! Seems I’m freakishly juiced up with some sort of witchy power and I’m gonna use that.” Dean paused and gave Sam a pleading look. When he saw that Sam wasn’t about to budge, Dean added, “Look, if you come, I won’t be able to concentrate on the task at hand. I’ll be worrying about you. How is that gonna help me, help Cas. Please. Just go home to Jess.”

Sam released a long sigh of displeasure. “Fine! But I’m not happy about this! You call me the instant you are _both_ home safe!” Dean knew Sam had exaggerated the word ‘both’ to get across to him that he believed in Dean. He was glad to have his brother’s support but Dean wasn’t sure he believed in himself, or his newfound power. _Well, guess I’ll fake it ‘til I make it,_ he told himself silently in an attempt to pump himself up. With that, he raced over to the wall unit and retrieved his ivory handled .45. If anything, he would at least have his gun to back him up if his whack-a-doodle magickal energy didn’t do him any good.

He patted Sam on the back and gave him his best reassuring look before exited the house to hop into the Impala. Dean turned over the key in the ignition and Baby roared to life. Dean put the car into drive and muttered, “Hang on, Cas. I’m coming. Just don’t piss ‘em off in the mean time!” and he peeled out of the driveway.


	9. Chapter 9

Castiel’s head ached and throbbed painfully to the beat of his pulse. At first he had questioned why he had to drink so much, until it all came back to him. After being knocked out twice, his headache was intense. Not wanting to open his eyes in case the room was brightly lit or filled with sunshine—although Castiel hadn’t a clue as to what time it even was any longer—he chose to keep his eyes closed. Instead, he listened to the soft music that emanated from the nearby clock radio and the hushed voices of two men talking. Internally Castiel chortled to himself as he chose to focus on the music rather than the voices he knew were Lucifer and Crowley. It seemed too ironic that the song he would wake up to would be _Everybody Plays The Fool_.

It’s only when the song stopped playing and the next one began that Castiel gave in to his sudden need to shift his position. His arms and legs felt numb and his whole body felt achy, like he had been in one position for too long. That was when he discovered his wrists and ankles were bound. His eyes flew open and he fought with the bindings. The yellow rope instantly began to tighten and dig painfully into his flesh. Castiel realized because he had fought against his brother, Lucifer found the need to tie him up—he was a threat. Castiel couldn’t help but relish in the satisfaction that Lucifer felt the need he had to. Lucifer after all was only human, the same as him. They were on equal ground. Crowley on the other hand—that was a different story.

“Ah, sleeping beauty’s finally awake,” the demon cooed. Castiel only glared his hatred in return.

“Oh, come now. Don’t look at me that way. _I_ didn’t tie you up like a hog.” Crowley then mockingly imitated the sound of a banjo playing the song from Deliverance and nodded his head in Lucifer’s direction.

In unison Lucifer and Castiel chastise the demon, “Shut up, Crowley!” Crowley just smirked, lifted his hands in a sardonic act of truce and backed up a step.

“Lucifer, why can’t you get it through your thick skull—I will _never_ take back my grace. I’ve made my choice. I chose Dean. I’ll always choose Dean. You need to learn to live with the consequences of your fall. It’s not my issue to take on even though we are brothers. So whatever you have planned, it won’t work! Your spell is rendered useless—so just let me go.”

“Well that’s where you’re wrong, brother,” Lucifer began. Castiel narrowed his eyes in confusion and looked between Lucifer and Crowley. Crowley stayed silent and opted to stand beside the desk and played with the little glowing container that Castiel knew contained his grace. Castiel’s glare landed on his brother again when he continued to speak. “I think you’ve misunderstood. There are always loop holes, Castiel. You should know this. True, I need the grace from an angel. But it doesn’t have to be within the original host. I’m golden. I have you, and now I have your grace. And I know that stupid lover of yours has found a way to find us. It’s just a matter of time. So soon I will have his blood as well. I _will_ get my wings back, Castiel. You cannot stop me.”

Castiel’s heart raced. Lucifer was too close to fulfilling his desires and at that point all Castiel could do was silently pray that Dean didn’t show up. Sure, Lucifer was still human. But Crowley was a demon and a very powerful one at that. His strength was ten times that of a human. As much as Castiel believed in Dean and knew that he is strong in his own rights, Castiel couldn’t fool himself into thinking that the situation could ever work out in their favour.

Just under the surface of Castiel’s fear, his anger bubbled up until he found himself cursing at Crowley. “You! This is all your fucking fault! You coward of a demon who—” Before Castiel could finish his rant Crowley cut him off and uncharacteristically began to fidget.

“I’d love to stay and continue this lovely chat we’re having, Angel Wings, since three’s company and this has been fun. However, four’s a crowd. Good luck dah-ling, I always vote for the underdog. More exciting that way.”

Castiel’s confusion altered his features and he looked over at an equally confused Lucifer. Suddenly the door to the motel flew open with such force. At first it appeared as though the door had opened itself but then Castiel saw Dean saunter irately toward the threshold. Dean had magickally forced the locked motel door to open.

With the distinct sound of a snap of the fingers, Castiel looked in the direction it came from and found that Crowley was gone. Castiel now understood what Crowley was talking about and the undertone to it. He was afraid of Dean.

“Dean...” Castiel uttered under his breath.

“Cas!” Dean hollered and barged into the motel room, quickly scanning the room.

“Told you he’d come,” Lucifer said to Castiel, full of arrogance and seemingly unafraid of the fact that Dean had just busted the door open without using his physical being in any way shape or form.

Seeing Dean made Castiel struggle and tug at his bindings even more, wanting desperately to be free and somehow help Dean. Castiel couldn’t help but worry about Dean, despite the fact he was the one tied up. Castiel was afraid of how Dean would feel about himself if he used too much of his natural magickal abilities. Knowing Dean as he did, Castiel knew that if Dean did, he would think himself to be less human, which would gut Castiel. Dean was perfect, in all ways and aspects. Castiel only wished that Dean would see what he did.

“You sick son-of-a-bitch! I know what you want to do, Luke... Lucifer... _whatever_! What in the world makes you think that what you plan on doing is any kind of right?!” Dean accused, rightly so, at the blonde haired man who in returned just laughed at him.

“Dean, Dean, Dean... What makes you think that any of _us_ are rule followers of _this_ world? Castiel and I are fallen angels and you? Well, you’re a witch, of whose strength seems to be growing leaps and bounds since meeting my brother here I see. Do you think any of us are really _people_ who need to fit into the norm of this world?”

“Lucifer, shut up!” Castiel growled. He knew that his brother was trying to upset Dean and knock him mentally off-kilter. Castiel looked at Dean briefly to see if Lucifer’s words had indeed affected him. They had. Castiel could see the sudden doubt and self-hate darken Dean’s moss-green eyes.

Suddenly Dean did something that neither Castiel nor Lucifer saw coming, he charged at Lucifer. Tackling him to the hard non-plush carpeted floor Dean climbed on top of Lucifer and hit him with two powerful punches to his jaw which dazed Lucifer immediately. Taking the opportunity of Lucifer succumbing to being nearly knocked out, Dean climbed off of the blonde man and raced to free Castiel. Knowing he didn’t have much time, Dean immediately started untying the ropes. First he released Castiel’s hands and then his feet.

“Dean, I wish you hadn’t come... but I _am_ glad to see you.” Castiel said in nearly a whisper and gave Dean a small side grin.

“Guess this has become a thing of ours, me saving you...” Dean let his playful words fade and gave Castiel a wink. Just as Dean was about to say something else, Castiel made a guttural noise, unable to force any real words out in an attempt to warn Dean of the fact that Lucifer was behind him.

By the time Dean registered Castiel’s reaction, he felt the gun he had placed in the back part of the waistband of his jeans being pulled out. Automatically Dean twisted his upper body to look behind him. What he saw was Lucifer pointing his pearl handled .45 at him.

“I _will_ get my wings back!” Lucifer declared in a serious yet solemn tone.

“Hey, come on man—” Dean said. The moment he started to take a step toward Lucifer, a deafening _bang_ resounded in the room. Castiel felt a warm wet spray across his face and he watched helplessly as Dean’s body swayed backwards, landing on the edge of the bed only to slide to the floor.

“DEAN!!” Castiel cried out. All the air had been punched from his lungs. “Noooo!” His shock and grief held him there on the bed as he watched a grinning Lucifer kneel before Dean to retrieve his blood.

In a daze, feeling like he was omniscient to his surroundings and his actions, he rose from the bed and made his way toward the dresser where Lucifer’s Enochian magical paraphernalia sat. Castiel then grabbed the ceremonial dagger and before he could even think on his actions, he let his emotions drive him. Standing behind Lucifer, he raised the dagger and with swift, wrathful power, he drove the dagger deep into Lucifer’s back that ultimately penetrated his heart. Lucifer gasped and dropped the container he was using to collect Dean’s blood.

“No... not this way... not supposed to be this... way—” Lucifer uttered. Castiel could hear the blood gurgle from his mouth as he spoke his last words before he fell forward. Lucifer landed somewhat on top of Dean only to slide off completely and lay beside him on the floor.

Castiel was numb. He looked down at the horror before him and wanted to live in denial, that what he was seeing wasn’t real. _This has to be a nightmare... Right?_ Please _, let this be a nightmare..._

It took Castiel a few more times of hearing groaning, huffing noise before he realised what he was hearing was not coming from his dead brother, but from Dean.

“Dean! Oh my God, DEAN!! You’re alive!” Castiel darted forward, pushed Lucifer away from Dean so that he could kneel beside him. Castiel’s vision blurred completely and his tears fell freely. _You’re still with me. Thank God you’re still with me._


	10. Chapter 10

“The fucker shot me through the shoulder!” Dean grumbled.

“At least you’re alive, Dean.” Castiel quickly wiped away his tears. Relief flooded his entire being. Dean would recover from this and for that he’s beyond grateful. Castiel silently thanked his Father then leaned in to embrace Dean as gingerly as his emotions allowed him to.

“Easy for you to say, you haven’t been shot. Ow... Fuck...” he cursed quietly when Castiel manhandled him. “I’ll be fine, Cas, but I really should tie something around it to cut back the circulation so I don’t bleed to death.

“Yes, a tourniquet!” Castiel immediately reached for the bed sheet and pulled it towards them. At first he tried to tear it with his hands, but that was impossible. He looked around the room for something to start a cut so he could rip it the rest of the way. He paused when he spotted the dagger that stuck out of his dead brother’s back and then at Dean. Castiel looked at Dean solemnly and questioned him silently as to whether he should. Dean shrugged his shoulders then nodded his head for him to do it. Castiel took a deep breath in, reached for the blade and after a brief moment, pulled it out. Lucifer’s body shifted when the dagger was released and Castiel shuddered. He just stared at his brother’s lifeless body and a surge of guilt flowed through him.

“Cas... _Cas_. Come on, I need the tourniquet. He got what he deserved. Luke—Lucifer obviously didn’t get it right this time ‘round either. He’ll do it again... You and me though, Cas... all we have is now, so I’d really like to not bleed out,” Dean said, his voice low and pleading. Castiel looked into his eyes and Dean knew that Castiel was with him again and not stuck in his head.

Castiel took the bloodied blade and cut at the end of the sheet. Once a good enough cut had been produced, he put the dagger down and ripped the two halves apart. Satisfied with the portion he was to use on Dean, he folded it in half and then wrapped it below the wound, around Dean’s shoulder and under his armpit. Castiel wrapped it as tightly as he could without hurting Dean unnecessarily. Castiel then cut another two pieces from the bed sheet. One he folded to make a thick bandage and the other he used to tie around his neck and across his chest to hold the make-shift bandage in place. As Castiel worked on Dean, he noted that the bullet had gone straight through. It dawned on Castiel that Dean had stood right in front of him and a shiver ran though Castiel’s body. Castiel realized that he too could have been shot with the same bullet, but amazingly enough, he wasn’t. Out of morbid curiosity, Castiel looked at the walls behind where he had sat on the bed. After a moment, Castiel’s eyes found a small bullet hole. Lucifer’s aim had been just off-kilter enough that the bullet whizzed past Castiel’s left side. Castiel noted the height of the bullet hole in the wall and swallowed deeply—if Lucifer had even been a few more inches to his right, the stray bullet would have surely hit him in the head. ‘ _Maybe Father is looking out for us after all’_. Castiel thought to himself. ‘ _Thank you’_.

“Hey, Cas... Cas!” Dean said while he gently shook Castiel’s shoulder with his good arm. “We gotta get outta here, man. What the fuck are we gonna do with him?”

Castiel’s heart pounded in his ears like tympani drums. To say he felt overwhelmed was an incredible understatement, if he’d ever thought so. “Call the police?” Castiel finally said weakly—he was terrified, he didn’t know what to do.

“Get up, grab a towel and wipe down anything that we may have touched,” Dean ordered. “Go!” he prodded when Castiel just stood there in shock. Finally Castiel nodded and did as he was told. Castiel could hear Dean groan as he lifted himself off the floor. Slowly Dean walked into the bathroom where Castiel was and took a hand towel as well and helped wipe down surfaces that could hold a finger print.

Ten minutes later they were done and stared at each other in disbelief. Dean eventually pulled his gaze from Castiel’s sorrowful sapphire eyes and picked up from the floor the gun— _his_ gun—that he’d been shot with and placed it in the back of his jeans once again.

Dean then nodded toward the blade. “We gotta take that, too.” Castiel agreed as he picked it up and wiped as much of the drying blood off of it as he could with the towel in his hands.

“I think we’ve got everything and have done all we can to protect our identities.” Castiel said, his tone indicated clearly to Dean that he just wanted to get out of there.

“All right, I guess we should get the hell outta dodge, then.” Just as Castiel turned to exit the motel room, Dean piped up. “Wait, one more thing. Come here, Cas,” Dean nodded his head in the direction of the bathroom. “We need to clean your face up first.”

Castiel couldn’t believe that he had forgotten that Dean’s blood was sprayed across his face. The moment he was aware of it again, he couldn’t get it off of him fast enough. With both men in the small bathroom, Dean turned on the water and waited for it to warm up. Dean grabbed the facecloth, wet it down and then wrung it out. With gentle touches, he washed Castiel’s face. With every wipe and caress of the cloth, Castiel’s heart calmed. His breathing calmed. His soul calmed.

Without warning, he pushed Dean’s hand away and leaned in close to him. Castiel’s full lips barely brushed Dean’s for a moment before Dean closed the miniscule gap between them, and their lips collided. The kiss was deep and Castiel desperately wanted to convey to Dean his deep seated love and devotion to him.

Castiel was the first one to pull away. “I don’t know what I would have done without you!” His voice was gravelly with emotion. Dean looked at Castiel for a moment before his only response was to kiss him. With his good arm, Dean raised his hand to grasp the back of Castiel’s neck to deepen the kiss. After a brief moment, he pulled away slightly, only to leave his forehead pressed against Castiel’s

“We are going to grow old together, Cas. I know it. I’ve been an idiot to think that you wouldn’t love and accept _me_ , all of me, no matter how fucked up or odd I am. I’ve been an idiot to think that you, of all people, wouldn’t put up with my shit and do so with a smile—most of the time. I love you so much Cas, and I always will... Will you marry me?”

A gasp escaped Castiel’s lips and he stepped back so he could look at him. “Dean...” he breathed.

After what seemed like a very long moment to Dean, he said, “I’m serious. Will you marry me?”

“Yes! Of course I will! But I _will_ say, you sure have shitty timing!” Their laughter filled the small room. Castiel then added, “I hate to be the rational one, but maybe we should get the hell out of here, take care of your shoulder and well... just get away from here.”

Dean nodded. “Agreed; let’s get home so you can stitch me up.”

“I can’t stitch you up!” Castiel was horrified.

“Sure you can. I’ll guide you through it. Besides, I can’t go to the hospital with a gunshot wound and even more so since we both know Luci’s body here will be discovered sooner than rather than later.”

Castiel sighed. “Fine... But you can’t cuss at me when I’m doing it,” he quipped.

“No promises,” he winked at Castiel. “’Kay, let’s go home.”

Castiel followed Dean as he made his way for the exit, but when Dean started to open the door Castiel stopped in his tracks. “Wait! My grace, I can’t leave it here.” Dean paused and waited for Castiel to collect the small container. He watched as Castiel headed over to the writing desk. Castiel pulled his sleeve down over his hand then frantically started to move other objects around. He opened the drawer, rummaged around and then slammed the drawer shut when his grace wasn’t there. He turned and looked at Dean. “It’s not here! I _saw_ it! I know it was here, Crowley was—” Castiel stopped as anger reddened his face.

“Crowley, what?” Dean asked with trepidation.

“Crowley was playing with the container that held my grace and then you showed up and scared him off and he just disappeared...”

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me! Crowley has your grace?” Dean said and finished Castiel’s thought.

“There’s nothing we can do about it here, let’s just go, Dean.”

“Fine,” he agreed angrily.

 

It didn’t take long before Dean pulled the Impala into their driveway. Even though Dean was shot, he still insisted on driving. ‘I still have one good arm, I’m good to go,’ he claimed. Castiel called him a stubborn ass but eventually caved and just let him drive. When Dean put the car into park, Castiel noticed that a light was on in the living room.

“Uh, Dean, did you leave the lights on when you left by any chance?”

“No, why?”

“I think someone is in our house. Not only is there a light on, the front door looks open.”

“Fuck... Can we not be done with all this shit already? What the hell is it now?” Dean grumbled.

As they got closer to the front door, Castiel sped up and positioned himself in front of Dean. He figured Dean was hurt enough and he’d do anything to prevent Dean from being harmed any further. Dean scoffed at this action, but let it go. The pain from the gunshot wound increased with each moment that passed and even Dean had to admit that he was not on his game.

After he opened the screen door, Castiel pushed on to the front door and opened it cautiously. When they entered their home, everything appeared to be in order. Castiel peered over his shoulder and looked at Dean before he continued on. He could hear Dean close the front door behind them. When Castiel reached the threshold of the living room he came to a sudden halt and caused Dean to bump into him. The pain from the sudden jolt was like a shock and Dean couldn’t help but curse under his breath.

“Hello, boys,” chimed a British male voice that made Dean cringe. Dean looked past Castiel, who stood stock still in shock and saw Crowley and Gabriel where they sat on opposite ends of the couch.

In greeting, Crowley held aloft a tumbler glass filled with an amber liquid that Dean figured was his bourbon, as he grinned like the Cheshire cat at both of them. Immediately Dean’s demeanour switched over to ‘protect Cas’ and he stepped in front of Castiel.

“Dean...” Castiel scolded.

“Calm down and stop being so Neanderthal-like. _Me manly-man. Must protect mate from bad man_ ,” Crowley said mockingly. “I’m here because of this.” He reached into his black suit jacket and pulled out the small glass container that held Castiel’s glowing grace. Dean and Castiel walked over to Crowley and Gabriel. Crowley rose from his spot on the couch and Dean looked over at Gabriel and silently questioned why he was there. Gabriel gave a small reassuring smile to Dean and then to Castiel.

Crowley stopped in front of Castiel and held out his grace. “For you.”

Castiel glowered at Crowley, unsure of his true intentions. Even if the demon did actually mean well, Castiel didn’t want his grace back. He didn’t want to be an angel. He wanted to live his _human_ life with Dean. It was a horrific idea to out-live Dean and if he took his grace back, that’s exactly what would happen.

“I don’t need it, nor do I want it.”

“Cas, what do you mean? You have to take it back. You can’t let this sleazebag keep it!” Dean couldn’t believe what Castiel had just said, but he really didn’t want Crowley to have Castiel’s grace either.

“Look, it’s just one more item that other demons will want to steal from me. I don’t need the hassle.” Crowley shrugged.

Castiel’s brow furrowed as he eyed up Crowley. He didn’t fully believe him, although he did think that what Crowley admitted was true. However, Castiel couldn’t help but wonder if somewhere deep within Crowley, he felt guilt for what he did to Castiel. He also had a suspicion that maybe Crowley was envious of Castiel being able to have what Crowley has always wanted—someone to love, and to be loved.

“Besides, when you die, it’ll just fade away. I’m not going to babysit it for you over the next x-amount of years,” Crowley added. Castiel’s instincts told him that Crowley attempted to make an honest truce this time. He waved the container at Castiel to try and get him to take it, but it was Dean who finally took it from Crowley.

“Well, Angel Wings—it’s been interesting. I’d say, see you around, but we both know that’s not in the cards. Enjoy your life, even if it will be with this caveman.” Crowley nodded in Dean’s direction. Castiel can’t help the side grin that crossed his face.

“Hey!” Dean retorted weakly.

“I’ll leave you three to hash out why your brother’s been hanging out with me this eve.” Crowley turned and winked at Gabriel. Gabriel just scrunched up his face in mock disgust. With a snap of his fingers, Crowley was suddenly gone, which startled Dean. Castiel had already been a half-assed witness to the disappearing act, so he wasn’t alarmed at Crowley’s sudden exit.

Gabriel finally rose from his spot on the couch and walked over to them. “I’m glad you made it out of that motel room with our devious brother, Castiel. Although, you look a bit worse for wear, Deano.”

“Yeah, well your dick of a bro thought it would be fun to shoot me, I guess. Livin’ the dream, Gabe, livin’ the dream...” Dean said and let his contemptuous words trail off.

“What are you doing here, Gabriel?” Castiel asked his brother.

“Your dumb-ass boyfriend here is either too stupid or too stubborn to call me for help. I called and called, and when no one picked up, I thought I’d better, uh, come and see if you two were all right.”

Dean looked between the two angelic brothers and watched as Castiel narrowed his eyes. “What are you not telling us, Gabriel?”

“Look, I don’t even know how it even happened, okay?”

“What are you talking abou—oh my God...” Castiel’s eyes went as wide as saucers. “When? _How_? Why were you hanging out with Crowley if—”

“What, _what_? What’s going on?” Dean asked frantically. He hated the fact that he was clearly out of the loop that the brother’s currently shared.

Gabriel ignored Castiel’s questions. Instead he opted to go and stand in front of Dean. Gabriel raised his right arm and placed his hand on Dean’s injured shoulder and closed his eyes in concentration. Unexpectedly, a bright white light glowed from beneath Gabriel’s hand for a moment and the instant the light disappeared, Gabriel took his hand back and let his arm fall to his side.

“What the hell what _that_?!”

“Try it out.”

Dean’s brows came together in confusion until he realized that Gabe had told him to move his injured arm around. The moment he lifted his arm, shock and awe filled him—it didn’t hurt! Immediately Dean began to unwrap the bandage to look at the wound. Castiel quickly joined in and untied the tourniquet. When Dean pulled back his bloodied shirt, he was shocked to find that the bullet wound was long gone.

“How’d you...” Dean breathed.

“You got your wings back.” Castiel explained in a low voice. Gabriel nodded.

“I guess Father felt I’d repented enough? I dunno. All I know is that I was worried about you knuckleheads and at some point, of which I thought it was only a dream, Father came to me. He told me that it was my job to look out for you... Father told me about the choice you had made last year—that’s why I’m here. Crowley being here was just an odd fluke. Saved me a lot of grief though, so I’m happy ‘bout that. I came for that.” Gabriel pointed to Castiel’s grace then opened up his palm for Dean to place it in his hand. “Father made it clear that I have to protect your grace until the day that you make it home again.”

Castiel was speechless. After a long moment he looked over at Dean and nodded to him, as if to silently say, _go ahead give it to him, it’s all right_. With slight trepidation, Dean handed Gabriel the small glass vial that contained Castiel’s beautifully glowing grace.

“Will I see you again?” Castiel asked. Dean could hear the sorrow in his voice, which broke Dean’s heart.

“I dunno, hard to say; maybe at your 40th wedding anniversary to dance the Funky Chicken?”

Dean and Castiel grinned at his response because Gabriel knew somehow that Dean had proposed and also for the fact that they could both visualize Gabriel doing just that.

“As hard as it may be for you to believe this, I’ll miss you.” Gabriel grinned at Castiel’s admission.

“Yeah, well, just remember, I’ll be watching over you—so don’t forget that while you’re having your wild sex. Ha!”

“Dude, come on!” Dean protested then laughed heartily. Castiel on the other hand just shook his head at Gabriel. “Well, come to think of it... if you’re the one who’s gonna be all pervy about it, I guess we’ll have to make a good show of it each time.” Dean waggled his eyebrows at Gabriel as if to say, _take that_! Castiel couldn’t help but chuckle this time.

“Guess I asked for that sass... I’m outta here. You two stay strong.” Gabriel pumped a fist, in a mock expression of solidarity. “Later, bro.”

With a snap of his fingers, a light flashed and Gabriel was gone.

Castiel and Dean were left alone to stare at each other in disbelief. The question of: ‘ _did this really just happen’_ was in both men’s eyes.

“Dean... I... I think I’m finally free— _we_ are finally free.” Castiel exclaimed. His eyes welled up at the sudden overwhelming sense of free will.

Dean felt just as liberated and filled with visions of their limitless future together and was speechless. All he could do was pull Castiel into a firm embrace and each man melted into the other.


	11. Epilogue

**Epilogue**

August 20th was a day Sam Winchester had feared, but knew would come. Castiel had been ill for nearly a year, and with his failing health, Sam had watched his older brother become sick with worry and sorrow at the thought of being left alone. Sam clutched onto the ornate cane and used it to help keep him standing strong and tall. But he wasn’t all that strong. He was to bury his brother and brother-in-law. Jess was by Sam’s side, along with their grown children and grandchildren. Also there to grieve with them were Dean and Castiel’s children and grandchildren. Behind Sam and his immediate family stood a small handful of their friends who had come to say good-bye.

Sam glanced to the right of where Castiel and Dean were buried to look at Charlie’s headstone and stifled back the urge to cry. She had been one of the most important people in Dean and Cas’ life, and Sam didn’t realize how much harder it would be to see them together again like this. Breast cancer had taken her from their family all too soon.

Jess rubbed Sam’s back and curled herself in close when Sam wrapped an arm around her.

“They had a long and happy life, Sam. This should be a celebration of their life. They were amazing men and the profound bond they shared was something special. Very few people get to experience that. I feel blessed to have known them both. Don’t think about how they’re ‘gone’. Remember their life and smile. Dean loved you. Cas loved you. They are together still. One day we will be with them all again.” Sam knew Jess was right and he kissed the top of her head. And he did smile, and even chortled at times, as he recalled Dean and Castiel’s greatest moments.

 

November 16th. It was only a few months after Lucifer’s death and Gabriel’s disappearance that Dean and Castiel had stood before their friends and family to publically declare their love for each other and in the eyes of the government, become a legally married couple, with Castiel taking on the Winchester name. The ceremony was small, yet the love that filled the small hall was vast. Sam stood up for Dean and Charlie stood up for Castiel. For years after, Charlie loved to harass Sam about how he cried at Cas and Dean’s wedding, especially during their first dance to _Thinking Out Loud_ , calling him a big ol’ sappy moose. He couldn’t disagree.

Dean and Castiel had admitted to Sam after the wedding how they couldn’t help but feel like they’d lost so much time together since it took so long to find each other to begin with. And with that came the sense of urgency to experience all that life could grant them. They had talked about travel and such, but neither of them had imagined that they’d ever be fathers. But to Castiel’s surprise, six and a half months after their wedding, Dean proposed the idea of adopting. Castiel couldn’t deny that the idea of parenting with Dean excited him and frightened him equally. Once Castiel knew that Dean was truly good with the idea of raising a child together, they had announced their plans to Sam, Jessica and Charlie. To their surprise, Charlie was against the idea of them adopting. Both men were taken aback and hurt at first by her initial reaction. However, once she realized how they took her rejection of their idea, she quickly cleared things up. She had offered herself to be their surrogate. Stunned, they didn’t know what to say.

After a month long debate amongst them, Castiel and Dean had finally agreed. Then the next issue that had to be hashed out was who would be the biological father. Dean had insisted that Castiel should be, since Dean already had a child. He wanted Castiel to experience what it felt like to have flesh and blood child.

Nearly a year later, Dean and Castiel (and Charlie) welcomed to the world, Abigail, who possessed Castiel’s sapphire eyes and dark brown hair, and to top it off Charlie’s feisty nature. Castiel couldn’t help but think, though, that some of her spirited-temperament was learned from Dean, which made Castiel smile whenever the two of them would argue over the silliest of things as she got older. Shortly after Abigail’s second birthday, Dean became a biological father again when Charlie gave birth to their second child, Davis Robert. Davis was blessed with green eyes, somewhere between Dean and Charlie’s, the same spray of freckles across his nose that Dean had and sandy blonde hair. Davis also inherited natural magickal abilities like Dean. But after Gabriel healed Dean of his gunshot wound, he noticed a few weeks later that the powerful energy that he once felt, had waned. Dean was who he had been before doing the spell that unintentionally gave Cas his wings back. At first Dean was alarmed and worried, but it didn’t take long before Dean was more than ok with it and wouldn’t look a gift horse in the mouth. He felt normal again—well, as normal as he figured he could be.

As the years swiftly passed by, Dean teased Castiel when his hair started to turn grey and Castiel teased Dean when his body became softer and signs of arthritis set in on his knees and fingers. They secretly relished in watching each other grow older. Or as Sam recalled, Castiel preferred to say that they were ‘growing more refined’ over the years. Dean would always snort a laugh and pull Castiel in for an all encompassing embrace.

They got to experience family vacations, spats, and celebrated pivotal points in their lives. Their children’s graduations, weddings and they were at the hospital when their grandchildren were born. They relished in their retirement and bickered like the old men that Dean had always envisioned they would be. They lived and loved with no limits, and Sam couldn’t have been more proud to be Dean’s baby brother, and brother-in-law to Castiel.

 

The engraving on their shared headstone:

 

**Dean & Castiel Winchester**

November 12, 2057

_“Our lives may have been difficult, but together we stumbled toward the light_

_and our love conquered all.”_

* * * * *

(Two photos: one from their 1st anniversary party, the other from their 40th wedding anniversary)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope I haven't devistated anyone, but I've always wanted to explore and play with the idea of senior!Dean and senior!Cas. It might have been brief, but I'm hoping that you were able to mentally imagine them living their lives together to the end. I had read an article about a couple who had been married for decades and died within hours of each other. Of course the first thing that came to mind was, Cas n Dean would be like that. lol So, there goes real life fitting nicely into the fic world. ;)  
> If you haven't really listened to the words to "Thinking Out Loud", you should check it out! I find it so fiting for Dean and Cas in general (and this fic realm that I've created).


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